Collide
by Tears of Mercury
Summary: I just don't think that anyone can help me if I can't help myself. Eman, some S6 spoiler alerts eventually
1. Prologue

**Collide**

Written by **Tears of Mercury**

Pairing: **Sean and Emma**

**A/N:** Hey, guys! This is my first ever Degrassi fanfic. I've read a lot of Sean/Emma fics on this site (I have two accounts, this one and OnTheOutsideLookingIn), but this is my first time trying my hand at one. I definitely appreciate and welcome your input on how to make it better or more realistic, but please be gentle; this fic and couple are both very close to my heart! I'm posting the prologue and the first chapter on the same day, so review whichever one you want (or both! lol). I'm going to try to end this long-winded author's note now, but just as an informational bit: the prologue is about a quarter of the size of my usual chapters, and takes place at the beginning of the summer. The story is Emma's POV, but there will be occasional breaks where I do a third person POV following Sean. Please read and review!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Degrassi… or Daniel Clark… or Emma Nelson… wistful sigh …

Do you ever have that feeling at the back of your eyes and in the center of your chest? It's when you can't cry but want to, or you're crying but you need to stop; or sometimes just when it's all hollow. It's like, all of a sudden there's pressure everywhere and it just _hurts_ so bad that you can barely breathe – and you know you won't be able to unless you let it all out somehow. I find myself feeling like that a lot lately. It kind of crept up on me: when I was talking to Snake in the hallway and he asked me how the wife that he cheated on was doing all by herself – except for me, of course. She had me. Or when I made myself throw up because it was the only way that I could even look in the mirror, but I still knew on some level that I shouldn't have… and really, I didn't want to. It happened when I was lying in a hospital bed with my best friend in the world (who I'd managed to insult and hurt in the worst possible ways) next to me crying because there's something wrong with me and my mom was fixing that _look_ on me that I knew so well; when all that I could think was that I had to force it somehow. I had to be guilty and contrite and ready to turn around because it's what they wanted, needed even. And what people need from me has always been the most important thing.

My boyfriend Peter didn't visit me at all the day I was in the hospital. He came by later, but it didn't really mean as much. I may have been struggling to breathe, but a panic attack doesn't render you senseless; I knew that he couldn't even move when he saw me lying there. It wouldn't have hurt as much if he'd been able to run away. I didn't expect some grand, sweeping gesture, like rushing to me and carrying me all the way to the hospital – but the asshole could've at least held my hand if he wasn't going to call 911. I couldn't see his face, but I know exactly what I would've seen if I had: that perfect mixture of shock and disgust and hesitation that I expected from everyone. Strange that no one but him reacted how I predicted. I do know you just a little bit after all, boyfriend. You'll still look out for number one and forget about me when push comes to shove; not that I blame you.

I go to these therapy sessions a lot. This lady, her name is Rosa, is always trying to get me to talk about my inner turmoil, teen angst; all of the crap that's causing me to view myself as a monster of cow-sized proportion. I thought that she would have a field day when she was informed that Snake isn't my biological dad; the thought of abandonment issues dating that far back into my childhood was apparently the missing piece of the puzzle. The fact that my dad didn't abandon me as I eventually found out just made it even more central to all of my emotional issues. She likes to talk about Jay a lot, and how not dealing with that has made me someone that I don't want to be. Of course, I don't know that I don't want to be the way I am on a conscious level. That would be too easy. Maybe I'm being unfair, but I'm sick and tired of spending my Thursday afternoons sitting in a cramped room listening to someone tell me all of the reasons why I'm so completely screwed up after interrogation methods don't work. I just don't think that anyone else can help me if I can't help myself.

Telling her about Jordan was a mistake. I guess that if you put pressure on an object for long enough it'll crack; I certainly proved that theory to be true, at least. The horrified look on her face when I talked about what he did to me (which wasn't really that much considering what he might have done had my mom and Snake gotten there too late) was a little over the top, but the compassion there… it helped. It helped a lot, even if she wouldn't stop asking me to talk about it after that. I never really had a choice before whether or not I wanted to think about that point in my life. My mom was so concerned, so devastated; so sure that it was somehow her fault. What we needed was to move forward and forget about it. At least, that's what I think. When I try to think about how I was feeling back then, things are kind of hazy, like sunlight filtered through a dark piece of cloth. Feelings came later.

Manny isn't sure how to act around me sometimes. It's only for a minute or so, and half of the time even _I_ don't catch it. It's just when we're at the movies and we stop at the concession stand, or the topic of boys comes up and we start talking about Peter. I know that she worries about me for more than one reason, that it's hard for her to say nothing when she just wants to bring something up. She's somehow become the strong one for both of us, though, and she always steamrolls right through those moments, blinking quickly until that look in her eyes is gone or reaching out for my arm when her hand is resting in midair. And then she laughs and smiles and she's Manny again, and I love her for it. We're back to tripping through the day, neither of us really believing that time is passing as we go or that any time at all has passed since we were in grade seven, half of the dynamic foursome. Those moments make me feel like she's my best friend again, a feeling that I miss. No, that's not right; I think that what I miss is feeling like I'm her best friend.

I obsess a lot these days about the past. Do you realize how different your life would be if you'd made just _one _different choice? If I hadn't gotten Sean stuck in Saturday detention, he might not have ended up with Ellie. If I had chosen to keep Peter out of the picture, Manny and I wouldn't have that gap between us; the stress might not have gotten to me so much that I had to starve myself so I could control _something_, and I wouldn't be stuck with a boyfriend that sometimes I'm not sure I want. Saying that I'm stuck with him is a pretty good indicator of my feelings right now. Not just about him, either.

Someone is always around me. When I go to the bathroom, Manny comes with me and redoes her makeup in the bedroom mirror so that I'm not tempted to purge. When I'm at the table, Snake and Spike are always sitting by me, prodding me gently to eat and backing me into a corner without even realizing it. My own house is a prison, and my parents don't trust me. I haven't really given them reason to, though. I just need to get away sometimes, and I can't. I wouldn't have anywhere to go if I could.

I promised Manny and my mom that I would fight this thing, and I try. I eat just enough at dinner for Spike to worry but let it go, I stay away from empty bathrooms and ravines. I smile at Peter and kiss him and hold hands and listen when he's talking about something important to him. I have awful karaoke moments in front of the mirror using a hairbrush as a microphone with Manny by my side doing the exact same thing. My heart isn't in it, though, and sometimes I can feel it boiling under the surface, just waiting for the right moment to claw its way to the top. Some day I'll throw up whatever I'm eating and shy away from all other food, I'll manipulate people so that I can keep going the way I am, and I'll lash out at whoever tries to help me. But until then I'll sit in an office once a week and with a complete stranger's help I'll try to turn my life around. Maybe someday I'll believe that that's even possible.


	2. One Step Forward, Two Steps Backward

**Collide**

Written by **Tears of Mercury**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Degrassi. If I did, they wouldn't have assassinated Spaige AND Sparcy.

There are two things that I have learned in the last thirty-five minutes: one, even though three-year-olds are perfectly capable of walking on their own two feet, they need to be carried because when left to their own devices, they'll leave a wake of destruction in their path. Second, if you're going to blow off your summer reading until eight in the morning on the first day of school so that you can stare into space listlessly for hours on end all summer long, you should make sure that your mom isn't going to wake up at one in the morning the night before school starts to begin an all-night barf fest. And last but not least, Rice Krispies and fruit punch in the same bowl is _not_ a good combination.

"Jack, can you _please_ stop screaming? Letting up on the kicking wouldn't hurt, either," I plead, past a strict and ineffective reproof by this point in time.

"I WANT MY DINOSAUR!" The first time he screamed into my ears I dropped a plate into the sink. Thankfully, by now I'm so used to it that it only serves to add to the already fierce migraine pounding behind my eyes. Manny stumbles into the kitchen in her pajamas and pink bunny slippers, yawning and looking like she could use a shower or another hour of sleep before getting up to face the day. Unfortunately, she won't get either; school starts in thirty minutes, and as I was so lucky to find out the hard way this morning, our hot water isn't working for some reason.

"Oh, Em, you made waffles. I love your waffles. Almost," yawn, "as much," yawn, "as I love," yawn, "Craaaiiiiiiiig." She yawns during the last word but doesn't stop talking, instead drawing it out until it sounds almost like a faint moan of irritation.

"Yeah, well, you'd better. I was going to make pancakes, but the batter spilled all over the front of my shirt and I had to change clothes," I say by way of reply, trying to step over all of the toys littering the floor so that I can clear the dishes on the table. Snake left for work earlier this morning looking pale; I swear if anyone else in this family gets sick, I'm going to blow up from the added pressure.

"Hey, where's Spike?" Manny finally asks, scanning the room as she forks her first bite of waffle.

"She has the stomach flu. Snake had to leave early for a faculty meeting about the first day this morning, so we need to drop Jack off at daycare before we go to school." As if she's just noticing Jack's incessant wailing for the first time, she pushes out of her chair and walks over to us, taking him out of my arms.

"Jackie, you shouldn't cry so loud. It's just making everybody feel worse," she soothes, smoothing a hand over his ruffled hair. In two seconds flat she's reduced him to a sniffling, red-face, and _quiet_ boy. This is how it's been for about a month; Jack suddenly decided that he loves Manny more than the rest of us, and she has him wrapped around her little finger. I'd be disgusted and more than a little disturbed if I wasn't so relieved. The two of them sit down side by side at the table and his tiny feet swing back and forth as he gobbles up his breakfast. "Now Em, at the risk of sounding stupid… how are we supposed to get Jack to day care _and_ get to school on time when we don't have a car?" Damn the family car for picking this week to break down. Damn me for forgetting that minor detail. Damn this whole morning for being so insane.

I press the bridge of my nose with my index finger and thumb, hard. After a moment I look back at Manny and sigh in resignation. "We're going to have to call Peter." Those six words seem to have instantly soured Manny's good mood, but she doesn't say a word. She doesn't need to, really; her facial expression and her suddenly stiff posturing is more than enough. "Manny, I'm sorry, but what else do you want me to do, bring Jack with us to school?" She sighs and sets down at her fork, staring sullenly at the food that she'd been praising moments ago.

"It's fine. I just… I'll go get dressed." Manny leaves the table without looking at me. Jack picks that moment to start screaming again, and I bite back a scream of my own before picking him up. I have no idea what is wrong with her, with both of them. At the end of school she and Peter seemed to be getting along fine, and then somewhere during the summer things changed and they went back to hating each other with a passion. Thankfully, they were courteous enough to insist that I didn't have to choose between the two of them; I just had to choose who I spent time with when… and proceeded to complain whenever I didn't spend every waking moment with one or the other. I finally reach the phone on the counter and dial Peter's cell phone number. Jack picks that moment to wriggle out of my grasp and fall onto the floor. Instead of wailing, though, he goes on his way with a smile on his face; I guess teenage boys aren't the only ones that are fine as soon as they're free of me. I'm seriously considering just skipping the first day of school altogether when Peter finally picks up.

"Hey, Emma. Just can't get enough of me, can you?" he teases. I'd almost forgotten our impromptu makeout session last night; now I remember, though, and I distinctly recall having to divert his hand from my belt multiple times. The thought of it makes bile rise up in my throat for some reason.

"Actually, I need to ask you a favor. I need to get Jack to daycare, and Manny and I need a ride to school. Can you pick us up?" I ask hopefully. In the back of my mind I know that there's no way that my boyfriend's going to refuse me, even if it means being late for homeroom; I still need to hear him say it, though. Instead, he says something else.

"Wait, Manny? I'm sorry, Em, but I can't do it," he answers abruptly. I hold the phone away from my face long enough to let out a frustrated noise before bringing it back up to my ear.

"Peter, remember who you're talking to? This is Emma, your girlfriend, who _loves_ you and needs you to do this for her. Besides, Manny won't say a word, and we'll only be in the car for fifteen minutes tops." There's a pause for a moment. He lets out a heavy sigh and I smile in relief before he's even started talking.

"I'll be there in five minutes."

"Thank you! I'll see you then."

"Okay. Love you, bye." For a moment, I consider saying the words back, even though I usually don't. By the time I make up my mind to say it he's already hung up. It doesn't really surprise me, but it's still amusing in a sad sort of way; I haven't said those words to him all summer, save for an uncomfortable 'you too' or 'I know' whenever he tells me he loves me or in a teasing way when I'm asking a favor. I just always wanted my first time telling someone that I loved them to mean something; for me to mean it when I said it. I've already lost my window of opportunity, though, so I trudge into the living room, picking up toys and righting off-kilter objects as I go.

"Jack, come here! I need to get your shoes on." He doesn't answer, and when I come into the living room I find him on the couch… asleep. I know that he woke up at six thirty when he heard Spike throwing up, but there's not an ounce of sympathy in my body for the small tornado as I march towards him, grabbing his sneakers and discarded socks on my way. He doesn't wake when I put the socks on, but as I shove his feet none too delicately into the sneakers he stirs and, of course, starts screaming again. When I pull on the laces he tries to kick me in the face, and I immediately switch him around and yank until they're tied in something resembling a knot. It'll have to do. Manny walks into the room and Peter knocks on the door simultaneously, and with me tied down with Jack Manny reluctantly opens the front door and exchanges glares with Peter.

"Are you ready to go, Emma?" I look up at him and see the barely masked irritation in his features, the impatience coming through his fingers tapping against his leg. Yes, I'm ready, Peter, even though my hair is a mess and I haven't had a chance to conceal the circles under my eyes, and even though my best friend in the world is standing there giving me an inferiority complex with a look that she somehow managed to pull together in two minutes while my little brother tries to headbutt me.

"Yeah, I'm ready." Manny picks up the car seat situated by the door and the four of us walk out. I stop in my tracks at the sight of Peter's brand new sports car.

"Surprise," he says in a flat voice. "I was going to show you when we got to school, but I guess now is as good a time as ever." I don't know anything about cars, but I know that Peter loves them and that this is a really nice one. With a little effort, Jack is transported into Manny's arms and my arms are around Peter's neck as I lean in to kiss him softly.

"It's a really nice car," I comment before walking away to buckle Jack in. When I get into the front seat I see that I've managed to smooth things over by the way he's smiling. Thankfully, my directions to Jack's daycare center keep us from falling into a stony, hostile silence. Once we get to the center I get Jack out of the car and take him in. By the time I get back out, Manny and Peter's voices are audible all the way from the entrance. Before I can hear them they see me and both of them stop immediately.

"Guys, come on. This is only a ten minute car ride. Do we have to fight the whole way there?" Neither of them answers, but they both clamp their mouths shut. By now the back of my head is throbbing too, and I run my hand up my neck until I reach the tension-filled spot. It's an almost laughable idea, but I think that the silence might actually be making it worse.

"Emma, are you okay?" Manny asks in concern.

"I'm fine; it's just a headache," I reply, trying to smile. Instead she regards me suspiciously and frowns.

"Did you eat breakfast this morning?" Yes, I ate breakfast in between my two-hour-long shower and my daily morning yoga session, Manny. God, do these people think that I have time on my hands to spare once fall comes?

"I was really busy this morning. I guess that it just slipped my mind," I say instead. I can't afford to have Manny any madder at me than she already is. Instantly she and Peter both stiffen slightly and I see him glance over at me less than subtly.

"Emma, you know how hard it is for you to get back on track once you fall off the wagon," Peter starts, and from the corner of my eye I can see Manny preparing to say something.

"You guys, I just forgot. I'm not trying to lose ninety pounds before the second semester, I'm not trying to control the only thing I can control; I'm just trying to make it through the morning from hell. And Peter, you shouldn't mix your metaphors; it doesn't make for a very convincing argument. Now will you guys _please_ get off my back?" I manage through clenched teeth. It's pretty sad when the two people closest to you have nothing better to do than sit around picking apart your eating habits, even if you do have a history of anorexia.

"Peter's right, Emma. We're just worried about you. We all know that it's been a stressful morning, and that that's never good for your…" she drifts off and I turn around to face her, smirking slightly.

"My disorder? It's okay to say it, you know. Shrink appointments have gotten me more than used to the terminology by now," I say snidely. Before Manny can reply, Peter pulls the car into Degrassi and parks. He turns and looks at me expectantly for a moment, and when I finally realize what he's getting at I bite my lip.

"Manny and I always go into school together on the first day of the year; it's kind of a thing of ours," I explain, hoping to soften the blow a little. His blue eyes flash and I can tell that I haven't helped much.

"I'll see you at lunch, won't I? Or are there rituals concerning that, too?" he snipes.

"There aren't any 'rituals' concerning lunch, but you won't be able to sit with me. I'm going to be in the library, finishing my summer reading," I reply with more than a little irritation. The three of us get out of the car and begin walking toward the front steps. He looks at me with disbelief, and I bite the inside of my cheek to prevent an out-of-place smile when I think of what he'd say if I'd told him that in reality, I was starting my summer reading, and I probably would've skipped lunch even if I didn't have reading, if only to escape him and Manny.

"Well, I guess that the next time you need a driver I'll get five minute's notice," he mutters. Before I have a chance to call after him he's disappeared into the crowd, lost in a sea of bodies.

"That went well," Manny observes glumly, tracing an invisible pattern into the asphalt. I link arms with her as JT, Toby, and Liberty walk up to us.

"It can only get better from here," I say with confidence, and the five of us walk up the front steps and straight into another year we're sure to remember.

-0-0-0-

I wish that what I'd told Manny had been true, but throughout the day it's proven to be BS, plain and simple. On the way into homeroom I tripped and hit the side of my head on the corner of a desk, which, surprise, surprise, didn't exactly help my migraine any. After third period when I was getting a drink at the water fountain, Peter came up behind me and tried to catch me by surprise; he succeeded, and I ended up sputtering water all down the front of my _white_ shirt. By the time that lunch rolled around I had an awful turning sensation in the pit of my stomach.

The nurse's office was packed with people, most of them looking for aspirin to relieve the first-day-of-school headache. Suddenly the nausea in my stomach reached its peak and I stumbled into the adjoining bathroom, barely making it before I started retching. When I was done the nurse came in and handed me a wet paper towel, asking me what number to call to reach my mom. Naturally, my mom wouldn't be able to pick me up even if she did have a car, and I explained as much to the nurse. In some stroke of luck Toby entered at that moment and offered to borrow Ashley's car and drive me home. I nodded gratefully, trying to fight off another, smaller wave of nausea. I made it through the car ride home, which both of us were thankful for. But now that I'm at home and all I want to do is collapse, I have to face a somewhat better Spike asking me cautious, thinly veiled questions.

"So you were in the nurse's office when you threw up? Not the girls' room?" I run a hand through my hair and shut my eyes, trying to calm my rebellious stomach.

"Yes, I was in the nurse's office. She was there for the whole show, so she can tell you herself that there wasn't a finger down a throat involved. Can I please go to bed?" Spike's face fills with regret and she reaches out to touch my shoulder.

"Honey, I'm sorry. It's just… I worry about you sometimes, and I don't want to miss any signs if you start to relapse," she fumbles, trying to sugarcoat it. The truth is, she doesn't believe that there's a second that I'm alone that I'm not making myself throw up or scribbling down the day's food consumption in my old diary. Suddenly my stomach clenches and I run for the bathroom again. My mom is there to hold my hair back and rub my back, but all that I can think is that this is how it's always going to be. I have to throw up in front of her for her to believe me when I say that someone didn't walk in on me making myself sick; I just caught her stomach bug.

As I curl up on my side in bed, something twists inside me and tears start flowing down my face. For as long as I can recall, this is the way I've cried; the tears come, but never any sobs, never any feeling besides emptiness. There's no anguish fisting my chest so tight that I can't breathe, no whimpers that won't stay in my mouth; only silence and tears that seem to cool the moment they leave my eyes. There have only been two times that I remember sobbing; after the shooting, when I found Toby at a memorial service that neither of us felt comfortable at but both of us felt drawn to; and over Sean. He always had that ability to reach down and get emotions and reactions out of me that no one else could. I could never decide if I loved it or hated it; now I just miss it.

-0-0-0-

"Hey, you." Spike carefully sets down the tray of soup and ginger ale that she's been holding so that she can sit beside me on the bed. "Are you feeling any better?"

"Some," I answer abruptly, smoothing my hair back from my face. "I don't think I'm sick anymore; if I sleep through the rest of the night I might be able to make it to school tomorrow." Spike's brow creases and she shakes her head.

"Honey, no. The last thing you need is to stretch yourself too thin now and then end up getting really sick and falling behind. I want you to stay home until you're sure that you're okay. I actually need to call Dr. West right now to cancel tomorrow's appointment…"

"Don't, mom. I'm fine, okay? It was probably just something that I ate anyway. The last thing that I need is to get out of the habit of going to therapy," I insist, trying to brace my turning stomach as I look at the bowl of soup. It isn't the stomach bug that's making me want to get the food as far away from me as I can but the same nauseating experience I always endure when I know that there's no way around eating.

"Emma, you're allowed to be sick. Just because we don't want you skipping therapy…" Spike begins, but I cut her off.

"Trust me mom, I need this. I've actually been wanting to talk to her about some things…" Despite her best efforts to conceal it, I can see the small glimmer of hope in my mom's eyes. Me admitting that there's something wrong, and what's more wanting to talk about it, _has_ to be a positive indicator, after all. Maybe she'll finally begin to get back the daughter that she lost a little over a year ago. It would break her heart if she knew that the truth was that I couldn't deal with dragging myself there every week if I got a taste of freedom, that I didn't want to deal with all of the inquisitive looks Manny and Peter would give me if I didn't go, both of them just wondering if I'd simply decided to skip out. "When did Manny get home?" I redirect the conversation, hoping to get her mind off of the touchy subject.

"She got a ride with Craig. He made a surprise visit today; they were upstairs for awhile hoping that you'd wake up so he could say hi, but they finally gave up." I smile slightly even though I'm upset that I missed them. Craig, probably one of the only people more talked about at Degrassi than I am, is one of the few people that I honestly count among my best friends. I was there when the situation with his dad and Joey and Angie came up; he was there when I found out about my dad. That was one crush I was glad never panned out. If I'd been without a friend like Craig who I could go to, no judgments or fear of emotional attachment, I might have floundered a lot more times than I did in the past couple of years.

"I'll wait up for them in the living room, okay? You should go to bed; you have to be somewhere tomorrow too," I point out. My mom smiles and kisses my forehead, gently smoothing straggles of messy hair away from my forehead.

"I know I don't say it often, but I'm so proud of you. Emma, I have to admit… in the hospital, when you said that you were going to try to beat it, I didn't believe you… but you proved me wrong. You have worked so hard…" She struggles to take in a breath and I notice her trying not to cry. I've never felt like more of a tyrant for lying to my mother. "And I just… I love you so much. I know that you kind of got lost the last couple of years, but you're finding your way back, and I don't know anyone else who would have had the strength to do it as well as you." A tear slips down my cheek as we hug, but I make sure she doesn't notice it, just like I always do.

-0-0-0-

When they finally get in it's after one, and I can't help but smile as I think that Manny and I are both going to zombies tomorrow. I know that at least two classes assigned us homework, and if I know the two of them, Manny probably won't be down to bed for another hour; neither of them are the best with goodbyes. "Emma! I didn't think that I'd get a chance to see you." Craig hesitates slightly, taking in the flannel pajama bottoms and Save the Whales t-shirt I hadn't remembered that I owned until tonight that I have on. "Are you, uh… feeling better?" he asks daintily, still looking extremely nervous to be within five feet of me.

"If you don't give me a hug I'll vomit voluntarily and aim for you," I say, and both of us laugh as he steps forward and gives me a giant bear hug. "I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too. It's good to be back, even if it is only for half a day." I stick out my bottom lip and frown.

"Gone so soon? You can't even spare _one_ more day for your girlfriend and the rest of the little people you climbed over to get to the top?" Craig sticks his arm up and scratches at his head uncomfortably.

"Good lord, what is it with girls and that expression? Manny's been using it on me all day, and when I saw Ellie last night she looked like I had just killed her mom." We're all silent for a moment before Manny comes toward him, hugging him sideways and sliding her arm across his chest. Her head is tilted up, and both of us hold our breaths at the expression on her face; we've both seen it before.

"So, you visited Ellie last night? Before, uh, before seeing me?" He gulps and laughs. His voice is high-pitched and nervous and I can't suppress the smile that comes to my lips. He shoots me a glare before turning his head to look at Manny.

"Well, I ran into Ellie last night at the record store. We were both looking for the same album, and she invited me to a dorm party, and we ended up falling asleep in the dorm lounge." There's a general guideline that honesty is the best policy, and although I'd usually agree, the look on Manny's face right now is making me question the idea.

"Wait, so you _slept_ with her!"

"God, no! We just fell asleep on _opposite_ ends of the couch. You know that Ellie's not that kind of girl, Manny. And we're just friends." Manny is shooting daggers at him with her eyes and even I take a step back. I haven't seen her this upset since the… video… last year.

"Oh, I forgot; you only cheat on your girlfriends with _this_ kind of girl, right?"

"I need to go call… someone," I hastily amend, realizing that mentioning Peter might not be doing Manny's current target any favors. "It was nice seeing you Craig."

"You too, Emma. Have a good second day tomorrow."

"I hope you have a good ride back to Toronto. And just as a suggestion, you guys might want to keep it down… parents are sleeping; parents who might not be so happy to know that Craig is still here at a quarter to two in the morning." As I jog down the stairs I can hear voices filtering through the floorboards; apparently, my suggestion fell on deaf ears.

There's nothing to do but try to get to sleep. Lying down, though, I keep feeling drawn towards the bathroom, and it scares me. I've heard that sometimes if an intervention happens before someone has a chance to crash completely, they don't realize what great danger they're in, so they almost always relapse. It's a fact that I've tucked away somewhere in the back of my head; part fear, part excuse.

I make my way to the bathroom cautiously and lean down over the toilet slowly. It should be easy or hard, but instead it's just more numbness. For a moment as I'm flushing the toilet I see my mom's face, so hopeful and vulnerable and sad for what I've gone through, and I feel a stab of guilt. I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and Manny and Craig appear in the doorway. "Em, are you okay?" Craig puts his hand on the door and looks at me, and for a second I see a hint of suspicion in his eyes, but it's almost completely overridden by worry.

"I… I guess I'm not better after all."


	3. Repeat Motion

**Collide**

Written by **Tears of Mercury**

**A/N:** So, I finally went to youtube and watched the season six Eman scenes everyone has been talking about. I have mixed feelings, but let me just say… my version of Eman season six is a lot different from the spoilers/promos. However, since only part of the third chapter is written, I'm letting you guys decide: do you want me to revamp the story after this chapter and go along with the spoilers or just go off in the different direction I was planning on? This means that those readers that AREN'T reviewers (yes, I know you're out there! I saw my hit number! LoL) should review if just to give me input on this. I promise, I'll never beg you to review again! Well… maybe… anyway, here's chapter two. I hope that you guys enjoy!

"So you were sick yesterday? I'm sorry to hear that," she says, giving me a sympathetic expression as she crosses her legs and readjusts her position. My gaze falls on the notepad and pen in her hands and my lips tighten involuntarily.

"I think it was kind of stress and lack of sleep and just a touch of what my mom had… I'm doing a lot better now, though. Almost as good as new," I reply evenly. She sighs at me, a sigh that I've come to detest over the past four months.

"Emma, you don't have to be so defensive. I wasn't trying to imply that…"

"A lot of relapses are jumpstarted by a bug that gets girls in the habit of throwing up or not eating again, right? It makes us more susceptible to falling off the wagon," I recite, using Peter's phrase. I raise an eyebrow at her and she fiddles with the pen, tapping it against the tablet.

"Maybe it would have been a good idea to wait until you were feeling a little bit better. I know that it's not easy to be in a good mood or to get introspective when you're getting over being sick…"

"I'M NOT SICK!" She jumps a little as I fly out of my chair and knock it over. "You know what, you can take your fucking notes and your fucking observations and cliché phrases and shove them up your ass. I'm fine, okay? And it's pretty damn sad that you have such a huge savior complex that you feel like you have to swoop in and save every lost soul on the face of the planet!"

My footsteps pound against the pavement and I run past the waiting room where I know Spike will show up in five minutes once she gets the call from my therapist that I've run out on my session; past the buildings on either side of the office that they've tried to make look welcoming and cheery; past the hospital that they brought me to when I collapsed on the floor of the basement, gasping for breath. I finally stop when I get to the park, bending over and resting my head and hands on my knees as I try to catch my breath. There's a vacant bench nearby, and suddenly my anger comes to the surface. I kick and hit and punch and scream, hardly making a dent in it. This only serves to make me even more furious. "God!" I crumple onto the sidewalk and breathe heavily. I hate that I can start hyperventilating at the drop of a hat; it's certainly not a talent I'm proud of.

I hear footsteps approach me and I turn around. Jay. Of course, though; why the heck did I think that I'd be let off the hook just this once? At least I'll have a conversation topic when I get carted back to therapy. "Slow down there, Greenpeace. The rain forest can wait another two seconds," he taunts, smirking at me.

"Not right now, Jay. I'm kind of busy with something; not that I'd expect you to understand that."

"You're right; I've been sleeping the day away. We had an awesome party at the ravine last night; you should've come. I'm always willing to dispense more bracelets." Every inch of my pacifist self wants to slap him, but instead I back away. "Oh, come on! I wasn't that bad, was I?" When I don't respond he tries another tactic, one that might have worked in the past. "You certainly weren't bad. You surprised me, Miss Nelson; I'd always assumed prudes couldn't even look at a dick without gasping, but you…" His voice, low and suggestive, is calling after me as I start running away. By now I have a killer cramp in my side and breathing is a struggle. A car pulls up beside me. I'm expecting it to be Spike, but instead it's Snake.

"Dad. I… I was going back… to… um…" He gives me a knowing gaze and after a moment gestures with his head.

"Come on, I'll drive you home. No sense in walking the whole way back, especially after Spike sent me looking for you," he rationalizes.

"She what?" Snake sighs and squints at me.

"Honestly? She's pretty worried about you. But she's also kind of mad… you were making so much progress, and she doesn't realize that this is part of progress, not a setback. We both thought it would be best if I was there when you got home, and I wanted to make sure that you weren't in any serious trouble." I shake my head and get into the car silently. The ride home is quiet, but I notice the sheen of sweat on Snake's forehead, the way that he looks like he's not quite comfortable in his own skin. I know that look.

"Dad, are you okay?" I ask.

"I'm fine. I'm just a little tired; that's all." He looks straight ahead as he says it, and I notice a bruise peeking out from the edge of his shirt sleeve.

"Where did you get that bruise?" He sighs and turns to look at me as we pull into the driveway, neither of us getting out.

"I've been active. And you know that I play with Jack a lot, and now that he's getting older…" I look away and shake my head.

"Don't use Jack as an excuse. When is your next doctor's appointment?"

"It's in a month; you know that. I'm in remission."

"Are you? Because you look like you're about to throw up, you have bruises that you can't explain, and you can't look me in the eye and tell me that you're fine, can you?" The silence is heavy and sickening, and I have to choke back the swelling in my throat. "I bet you haven't even told mom yet. So much for honesty, huh?" I storm into the house past my mom, who looks plenty worked up herself.

"Emma, stop right there!" I whirl around to face her. She backs up a step, and I would be somewhat surprised if I wasn't so close to breaking down completely.

"What do you want me to say, mom? I lost it! And you know what? If you were crammed in a room and forced to share your feelings while someone scribbled them all down for an hour a week, you'd lose it too. Just… don't talk to me." As I march down into my room and collapse on my bed, curling my knees into my chest, I can't help but note that this is one incident I won't be able to lie about during next week's therapy session.

-0-0-0-

I dial the number almost hesitantly. I know that I can count on Peter to be there for me, but still… it's been awhile since we've addressed this. Even back when I did try to open up to people, he wasn't the first person that I'd go to by a long stretch. I haven't mentioned that last night wasn't as innocent as I made it out to be to Manny or my mom yet, and I know that despite the face he puts on, he's uncomfortable talking about this with me. "Hello?"

"Peter? Hey, it's me…"

"Hey, Em. How are you doing?" He sounds rushed, but I try to ignore it. He's offered more than once to make time for me; I'm his girlfriend, and it's okay to need him. Even if I do detest him half the time, I allow with a healthy shot of guilt.

"Actually, I'm not doing too well right now. Can we… can we meet at the Dot and talk for awhile? There's just some stuff that's been going on…"

"Listen, Emma, I'm sorry, but I don't think that that'll work out. I'm working on editing a couple sequences in the documentary and it's been like hell trying to figure it out." He doesn't sound sorry, but I let it slide. This is important to him; maybe more important than me. And I get that.

"Oh, you're busy," I repeat in a flat voice.

"I guess if you really need to talk…" I hate the hesitance in his voice and I clench my jaw. He can't see the action, of course, but even if he could I doubt that he would understand the significance of the motion; only a few people do.

"No, it's fine. I know that your documentary is taking up a lot of your time. Of course I understand. I just kind of thought that we could talk… It's not really important anyway. Just… just stupid girl stuff."

"Okay, good. Make sure to get breakfast tomorrow, okay?" I roll my eyes and wonder why I'm still dating him. Then I remember: I have no one else. He wants me, and there was a time when I wanted him back; first, really. That _should_ be a good enough reason. Why do I keep fighting the urge to get away from him every time things aren't perfect, then?

"Get some sleep tonight, okay? I don't want you to stay up all night rearranging scenes."

"Bye, Emma. Love you."

"Bye." My voice is clipped, but he doesn't catch it. This time I don't say those words back on purpose.

-0-0-0-

My first impression of the morning is that something's wrong, and then I realize what it is. The lower half of my abdomen is on fire, and the only way that I can lay that doesn't irritate it even more is curled up halfway, not close enough for my legs to touch the rest of me. "Manny," I manage to gasp out. She comes from the bathroom, cheerful and stylishly dressed.

"I was wondering when you would get up. I was about to come out here and jump on you. Now, I was thinking that when we get to the mall we should start at…"

"I'm not going anywhere today. I think I'm starting my period," I groan. She looks at me oddly and shakes her head.

"Emma, you never get PMS."

"Well, apparently I do now," I snap back, groaning again.

"Okay, I'm going to get you some Midol…"

"We don't have any. Snake used the rest of it last week… I think we're out of ibuprofen, too." Manny raises her eyebrows a little and bites her lip.

"Well, do you think you can get up?" I shoot her my best glare and she shuts her mouth quickly. "Okay, no to that. Look, I'll go get you some from the drugstore. Just… take a shower, okay? You look like you could use one. And try not to stand up too straight, that'll just make it worse."

After she's out of the house I manage a five minute shower. Looking in the mirror as I get out, I can see what she meant when she said that I needed one; my eyes are puffy and bloodshot, the corners of my mouth are turned down, and I have a huge zit on the far right side of my forehead. I get dressed in a track suit and a stained t-shirt; no mall for me today. I'm about to blowdry my hair, which is starting to drip onto my shirt, when the doorbell rings. No matter how many times Manny forgets her key and locks herself out of the house, I still don't expect it. I run up the stairs, almost collapsing at the top. When I get to the door I throw it open roughly.

"Manny, what took you so long with that Midol!"

It isn't Manny, though. It's Sean Cameron. He raises his eyebrows and we stare at each other for a moment.

Then I slam the door shut.

-0-0-0-

In five minutes, I manage to change into a pair of jeans and a tank top and get my hair somewhat dry and presentable, covering the zit that I know he's already seen. I make a stab at covering up the circles under my eyes, but it's a lost cause. I take a deep breath before going back upstairs. I'm not even sure if he's still there. Why would he be? I _did_ slam a door in his face, after all. When I open it cautiously, though, he turns around from his perch on the stoop. _Sean Cameron_ is back in Toronto, possibly back at Degrassi. And he's on my porch. "Hey." Way to go, Em! That's possibly the best line to ever come out of your mouth!

"You changed," he says.

"What? Oh, you mean my clothes." He nods and we both avoid each others' eyes for a minute before he smiles. "Sean Cameron, don't you dare laugh! This isn't funny; it's mortifying." His eyes dance and I can't help but smile back.

"I was just thinking of that time in grade seven when you stood up in front of the whole class in those baggy gym shorts and told everyone that you were having your first period, and then later on you passed around a petition to install tampon dispensers in the girls' bathrooms." I cover my face with my hand and we both start to laugh. It's one of those deep, belly laughs that has you struggling to keep from snorting or hee-hawing like a donkey, and I haven't laughed like this in ages. When I bring my hand down, both of us somewhat more composed, he steps toward me tentatively. I'm not sure what he's heard, what he knows about what's happened to me and who I've become, but right now I don't care. I lean in towards him as he slips his arms around me loosely. "It's good to see you," I whisper.

"It's good to be back." He pulls away and we both sit down on the steps, shoulder to shoulder, glancing at each other and then ahead. However embarrassing the situation, there's a certain comfort in just being in his presence, however much we've changed.

"You've grown up a lot," I comment. He nods and smiles.

"I'd like to think in more ways than one. You… you look great, Em." A small pang goes through my chest at the sound of the old nickname coming from his lips. When he says that, it's almost believable for the first time in months.

"Are you here to stay?" I blurt out suddenly. He nods and looks at me, neither of us able to look away as he says it.

"Yeah, I'm back. For better or for worse."

-0-0-0-

I hear the house phone ringing and I jump up from the porch to answer it, smiling when I hear Manny's voice. "Hey, Emma, I kind of got sidetracked. There was an ice cream stand and there was ice cream and… well. I'll be back soon, I promise," she says quickly, and I can almost see her bracing herself for the expected verbal assault from my end. I twist around to look at Sean, who's staring at me from the doorway inquisitively.

"Actually, Manny… I'll be fine. You should go shopping by yourself, okay? I've got some things that I want to do today."

"Okay, Em. You're sounding a lot better. Should I be worried?" I know she's joking, but for a moment I can't help the familiar irritation that creeps up at constantly having my mood monitored by other people.

"No, I'm fine. Look, I might go for a walk later if I'm feeling up to it, so don't be surprised if I'm not here when you get back," I tell her. Sean grins at me and shakes his head, dimples showing.

"Well, if you're sure… I'll see you later." I hang up the phone and he gives me a skeptical glance.

"What was that about? Are you really that scared of telling Manny that I'm back in town?" I shrug my shoulders and walk towards him.

"It's fine with me if you don't want to hang out. I just thought you might want to do something, and I didn't want to be tied up on the phone for half an hour."

"So I'm worth a half-hour conversation?" He inquires. I pause for a moment, knowing that he's gotten me. "A walk sounds good." We set out down the street, in the general direction of the park nearby. I shove my hands in my pockets, a nervous habit I somehow picked up over the summer. It's funny how many nervous ticks you develop when you can't feed your obsession. The silence grows awkward, and I clear my throat.

"How long have you been back?" I ask. He glances over at me and shrugs.

"Only a few days. I have to get my old apartment back and get a job at an auto shop since I've aged out of student welfare. You're the first person that I've come looking for."

"Not Ellie?" It's a stupid thing to say, and I'd sound smug, jealous or both if my tone wasn't so carefully measured, but a part of me bigger than I'm willing to admit has to know. He shakes his head and looks away.

"No. I talked to her on the phone to give her the heads-up… it's not the same, though. I don't think she ever really forgave me for going to Wasaga, and I guess I can't blame her. I ran into Craig a couple days ago and caught up with him. I'm staying with Jay for now. He mentioned that the two of you ran into each other the other day." I can almost feel the fire flashing in my eyes, and it doesn't go unnoticed by Sean, either. "I thought you guys were finally on amicable terms…" he trails off.

"Yeah, well, that didn't last long," I grind out. At his raised eyebrows I bite my lip. "Things were bad for all of us after you left," I finally say. I know that he'll accept that, and it's all that I can say right now, when I'm still sure that if I so much as reach out to touch him he'll disappear entirely. I still can't get over the physical differences in him; I wasn't lying when I said that he'd grown up. We're quiet for a moment before he speaks.

"I know that a lot of people are pissed off at me for leaving, but it helped… a lot. Things just would have gotten worse for me if I'd stayed."

"I never blamed you for leaving," I say softly. Something ignites in his eyes, and he smiles at me for a moment, making my breath hitch.

"I know. I think you're the only one who understood."

"Me understanding you is definitely a first," I say with a laugh. The moment is too loaded for me, and I'm feeling things that I haven't felt in ages and shouldn't be feeling, not with him. Somehow I can't seem to escape it, though, as he reaches out and grasps my hand.

"You understand more than you realize. More than anyone else did." I have to fight back tears, and I can feel the panic rising in me. This isn't supposed to be happening. Everything is under control in my life for the first time in awhile; everything is ordered and neat. Even the problems are all clearly defined and solved. A tear slips down my cheek. How is it that talking to Sean, who I haven't seen in two years and have been over for almost as long, can change everything so quickly? I know why, though, even if I won't admit it. He reaches out with his free hand to touch the side of my face but I pull away quickly. "Em, what's wrong?"

"I… I'm not who you think I am, okay? I've changed, so much that I don't even know who I am half the time. I'm recovering from an eating disorder and I have a boyfriend who Manny can't even stand to be in the same room with; _I_ can barely stand to be in the same room with him some days. I'm really glad that you're back, but I just… I'm not the person that you want me to be." I try to untangle our fingers and run away, but he won't give up that easily.

"Emma, just wait. What the hell are you talking about?"

"What part did you not hear, the eating disorder part or the boyfriend part?" I grind out, mad now. "Look, will you just let go of my hand?" Instead he holds on more tightly and wipes away the tears on my face. Without a moment's hesitation he pulls me into a hug. The last time that I hugged him like this was under completely different circumstances, ones I'd rather not remember. I can't even remember the last time I've let someone hold me. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his shoulder.

"Emma, whatever's happened, it doesn't change what I think of you. It doesn't change us." My mind screams at me to move, but it's impossible for my feet to comply. Deep down I know it's because I don't want to move out of his arms, although I'd never admit it. Finally, after what feels like hours, I take in a deep breath and step back. He studies me for a moment. "Are you okay?" I nod, trying not to look into his eyes. He always could tell when I was lying.

"Let's sit down for a minute." We head towards the park, which I can't remember walking to for some reason. When we've sat down he looks at me again, and this time I don't try to look away. What's the use?

"So you have an eating disorder…?" I shrug and fiddle with the edge of my jacket.

"Yeah. They weren't really sure how to classify me at the hospital… I'd go a couple days without eating and then I'd binge and purge. That was in the spring. I've been in therapy once a week all summer, and you know… people watch me to make sure I'm not relapsing." I'm surprised by the note of bitterness in my voice, but I can tell from the way that his eyes look as they hold mine that Sean isn't. He reaches out for my hand again and I take it, letting our fingers twine together. It doesn't mean anything, I tell myself. He knows that I have a boyfriend. I know that he doesn't have those feelings for me, that even if he did there's too much he'd find out about me that would ruin things. Despite this, I can't help the familiar thrill that races up my spine.

"It must be hard." I gaze at him for a moment and then drop my eyes again, trying to collect my thoughts. Everything is swirling around in my head, and all that I can think is that Sean, who's been through so much, isn't condemning me or judging me. If anyone has a right to, it's him; instead, he understands somehow. Not the eating disorder itself, maybe, but how it feels to be locked in a cage inside of yourself even when you're surrounded by the people that you love. I can see something in his eyes, and for a moment I wonder if he's thinking the same thing that people _always_ think; that I'm a freak, or that I'm weak and chemically imbalanced for having gotten to this place.

"It's okay. Most people are pretty weirded out… and it must be difficult for you. I'm not the girl that you expected me to be. You're probably disappointed," I babble, trying to justify his feelings when I don't even know what those feelings are.

"I'm not disappointed, Emma. I just… it hurts to know that you did that to yourself."

"What else was I supposed to do?" I realize how stupid it sounds the moment that it's out of my mouth, how wrong it is, but I keep on going. It's been fighting its way out of me for months now, and Sean's the only person that I trust with it, strangely enough. "I had no one to go to, to talk to. Manny wasn't there that day. She didn't understand; not really. My parents were so devastated they couldn't even piece together that it had actually happened. Toby was a wreck and didn't talk about it with anyone, and you… I couldn't call you. After what happened with Jay things went even further downhill, and I felt like everyone was judging me. Then Spike and Snake separated for awhile, and… I just had to control _something_. No matter how little I ate, though, things just kept spinning even more wildly out of control. _What else was I supposed to do_?" I demand, drawing in a deep breath. He frowns and his chin juts out.

"You could have called. Even if you didn't think so… I would have been down here as fast as I could if I knew that you needed me." We're both silent for a moment, and then he pulls away and looks at me. "What happened with you and Jay?" Another wave of tears come on and I realize that this is going to be the final straw. It'll send him over the edge; the one unforgivable thing. Being broken wouldn't be irreconcilable so long as I'm still pure, still his Emma. But I'm not. And I've never wanted to be that girl more than I do now.

"It was awhile after you left… he invited me down to the ravine. He'd been coming onto me for a few weeks, maybe more, and after awhile, I decided what the hell. I went and… we hooked up a couple of times, no more. He gave me gonorrhea. That was the end of it." At first his face pales and he looks at me with disbelief, but then his face takes on a blank expression. The anger hiding in the depth of his eyes in unmistakable, and I hate that it's directed towards me; hate that I deserve it. He walks away for a moment and my shoulders droop. Maybe it's better if we just don't speak again anyway. He turns around and comes back, though.

"What the hell were you thinking? You went down on Jay!" Out of the corner of my eye I can see a mom steering her four-year-old daughter away from us, shooting back a curious glance. Suddenly it clicks, and I know how to make him understand. He _has_ to understand this; it's the only way I can think of to tell him _why_.

"Remember when you went back to Wasaga?" I ask quietly.

"No, I don't, Emma. I mean, that was only two fucking years of my life! What the hell does that have to do with this, anyway?" he practically screams.

"You said that I understood, and I did! You needed to be away from here because everyone stared at you in the halls and the people who should've been your support system didn't understand like you needed them too. Well guess what, Sean? I needed to be away from it all, too! But I couldn't. And you know what? Jay wanted me, and he wasn't going to leave the moment I became a pain in the ass or point a gun at my head if I rejected him. Sure, he probably would have found someone else to fool around with if I wasn't there. But when I was in that van I didn't have to be me. I wasn't with Manny and JT and Toby or trying not to notice stares in the hallways; I wasn't waking up from a nightmare in my bed; I wasn't even in that van with Jay! I was just away from it all. It was stupid. And there were consequences, okay? But I'm not perfect!" I walk towards him and look him in the eye, trying to see what he's feeling and to let him see what I'm feeling for the first time all day. It scares me to death, but somehow I manage to hold eye contact. "I'm not perfect. I'm not, I'm not, I'm not. And no matter how hard I keep on trying to get back to perfect, I can't do it. I've already damaged myself too much." He looks like he's about to cry, I realize. I'm not quite sure how to react, but I'm pretty sure that if I was to try to touch him he'd pull away, and I can't take the rejection.

"No, you're not. You never were, but you were… you were Emma. You still are. I need to go. I can't do this right now." He pulls away and I reach for his arm, missing it by an inch.

"Sean, don't leave yet! Look, please don't go looking for Jay. I made my own decisions." He doesn't pay any attention to me, and I watch him walk away. Last time it felt like I was leaving him behind, driving away as one small tear dripped down his face. I'd thought that it was the worst feeling in the world. Now I know that I was wrong.


	4. Maybe Tomorrow

**Collide**

Written by **Tears of Mercury**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Degrassi, or the incredibly cute jumper that Stacy/Ellie got to wear in the premier.

**A/N: **I'm so sorry that it took this long to update! First the computer that all of my stuff for this story had been on got damaged irreparably, and when I got the files back my internet connection went down. Thankfully, though, this means that the fourth chapter has already been written and will probably be posted in the next couple of days. I hope that you guys enjoy the chapter (reviewing wouldn't hurt either )! Oh, and I have reviewer responses at the end of the chapter – a habit that I'm going to try to get into.

"Uh, please don't punch anything or throw anything," Craig cautioned. Sean had been pacing around his room like a damn pit-bull about to go in for the kill for the last hour or so. When Craig had opened up the door he hadn't gotten any explanation, and he'd known that insisting on one wouldn't have been the wisest course of action. After Sean finally disclosed what was bothering him, Craig had resigned himself to another two to three hours at least before Sean was ready to talk. He'd considered working on a few songs that had been giving him trouble to pass the time, but the mental image of Sean trashing his guitar flashed before his eyes every time he had the urge to break the tense silence with a few chords, so he settled for spastic fidgeting instead.

The aforementioned friend only seemed to be growing more agitated, so Craig decided to try a diplomatic, albeit cautious, approach. "Look, I know that you're upset—"

"Upset? I wanna go kill him!" Sean roared, clenching and unclenching his fists. Craig jumped slightly before objecting.

"That doesn't sound like a very good idea. Look, man, that was two years ago. It's in the past; people hardly even talk about it anymore. At least, the polite ones…"

"How can you be so calm about this! Emma and Jay…" he drifted off and then turned to Craig. "I don't even know how bad it is. Were they… did they…?" Craig shook his head quietly.

"It didn't get to that point. Emma wouldn't have gone all the way with him, even at her lowest point; it was something that meant too much to her." The comment seemed to calm Sean for a moment, so Craig continued. "You've just gotta chill, man. I mean, would you be this upset if it were Ellie we were talking about?" Sean snorted.

"I'd still want to bash Jay's face in, but… no, probably not. But how would _you_ feel in my place, man, if it was Ashley or Manny or whoever the hell your first love was?" The brown-haired boy's eyebrows raised and suddenly his expression changed. _Of course_, he surmised, nodding slightly. He'd never been the first to catch on; why should now be any exception?

"You still love her, don't you?" Sean paused for a moment at the question and ran a hand through his hair before turning to glare at him again.

"Of course I do. Why did you think I came back, to steal a few laptops with Jay?"

"That's not what I meant. It's just, you know, you and Ellie were really serious before you left and then after that I know that you went through a pretty rough first year back at Wasaga…" Sean squinted as he thought back on grade ten. Even with his parents there beside him it had been a living hell. "… I guess I kind of just thought that maybe you came back here to get away from it." The blond-haired boy shook his head.

"I'm done running from things. This is where I needed to be, with my friends… with Emma." Craig ran a hand over his face.

"You guys did cover the eating disorder and the boyfriend, right? She didn't just spring Jay on you first thing?" Sean sighed and nodded.

"She told me about all of it. Jay just kind of… spilled out with the rest of it. Who is this guy, anyway? She didn't exactly sound too happy to be with him." His friend snorted, smirking and crossing his arms.

"I don't know why she would be; the guy's a grade A asshole. Last year when Emma first liked him he took advantage of Manny while she was drunk and videotaped her flashing the camera. Then, when she wouldn't agree to go out with him, he sent the video to everyone in the school. Emma and Manny had a falling-out but made up pretty quickly; after that they both ignored Peter. He wouldn't stop pursuing Emma, though, and they started seeing each other behind Manny's back… when Emma stopped eating and Manny got suspicious, Emma sprung the news on her so that Manny would get off her back. Eventually Manny and Peter both realized how much trouble Emma was in and they set aside their differences long enough to help Spike and Snake stage an intervention… Emma had a panic attack and ended up in the hospital for a day. She started seeing a therapist, and Manny was by her side through the whole thing. I swear to God, though, every time that _that guy_ is around her, he's either acting like her babysitter or her pimp. Manny finally got so pissed at him that she stopped talking to him altogether." Sean frowned and gritted his teeth for a moment before looking back at Craig.

"So why is she with him?" Craig let out a short laugh.

"Honestly? I'm not even sure that _she_ knows. As soon as she's in the same room as him it's like she loses her personality… even the pain in her eyes just goes blank, and she's this model girlfriend," he spat out bitterly. Somehow Sean couldn't believe that anything could be worse than the searing pain in Emma's eyes that had caught him so off guard when she had answered the door that morning. Even her smiles had been tinged by it; all but one or two. Craig's voice snapped Sean out of his thoughts and brought him back to the present. "Okay, I need to go meet my manager, but please, Sean, whatever you do, don't go see Jay and kill the guy. And it probably wouldn't be the best idea to talk to Emma right now, either. She _is_ with Peter, whether we like it or not, and drama of the Sean and Emma variety won't exactly be easy for her to explain." Sean didn't miss the meaning in Craig's words and nodded reluctantly.

"Yeah, she is." But that didn't change the spark that he'd felt as soon as his hand touched hers. It didn't change the way she fit in his arms when he held her, the way he knew that there was nothing else he wanted more in the world than to do exactly that one more time.

-0-0-0-

Jay looked up from his perch on the couch and sloshed around the beer in his can. A Cheshire cat grin lit up his face and he inclined his head to the side. "Hey, man. What took you so long to get back?" Sean didn't move from the doorway, part of his face still masked by shadows. Even though the first boy squinted to get a better view of him, he couldn't make out the expression on his friend's face.

"You know, I've been going over and over it in my head, and I just can't figure it out. I always knew that you were an asshole, but at least you were an asshole that had my back. So what the hell did you think you were doing convincing _Emma _to go down on you?" _Shit._ Jay let out a long-suffering sigh; he'd known that this was going to come up sooner or later. Nelson never could keep her mouth shut for long. Of course with Sean back in town she had to suddenly decide to drudge it up, very likely getting his ass kicked in the process. Then again, who was to say that that wasn't the point? He set down his beer and rose slowly, moving towards Sean cautiously.

"Look, buddy, you and Emma were over. She was lonely, and I just thought that I could… help." Sean lunged at him and had him pinned against the wall in seconds.

"You thought that you could _help_ her by stealing her innocence and giving her gonorrhea? Some help," he spat out, grabbing Jay's shirt even more tightly. Jay slunk back against the wall and his eyes widened.

"That was an accident, okay? I had no idea that she was going to get sick from me! And I tried to talk to her about it, but blondie wouldn't say two words to me!" They were both silent for a moment. A small, hardened grin came onto Sean's face and he released Jay with force.

"Emma always was smarter than me," he whispered. Before Jay had a chance to reply, Sean had slammed the door behind him and was stalking towards his car. He stopped back at Craig's house, relieved when his friend simply showed him to the couch. When he'd finally found the courage to go and see her he drove quickly, going twenty miles over the speed limit and barely screeching to a temporary halt for stop signs and red lights. There was a very strong possibility that she didn't even want to see him; not that he'd ever let that stop him before. He could only hope that she would still be willing to talk; and maybe, if he was lucky, to listen.

**-0-0-0-**

I know that I must look awful, but I don't realize just how bad until I see Manny's face as I walk through the door. "Oh my god, Em, what happened? You look like you got run over by a truck! I've been home for two hours waiting for you." With a glance at the clock I realize that it's almost 5:00; if I'd waited much longer to come home, Spike and Snake would have been the ones waiting for me when I got here.

"Sean's back," I say hollowly. Her brown eyes widen and I watch as she connects the dots in front of me. Her face is a slideshow of expressions.

"Earlier, on the phone… the 'walk'… so things didn't go well?" For some reason the question is hilarious to me, and I double over laughing until tears are blinding my vision.

"No, they didn't. Everything was fine, a little _too_ fine, really, until I told him about Jay. Manny, he thinks that I'm a slut," I confide, my voice cracking at the words. I hadn't even realized that I was thinking it until it was out of my mouth, but now it doesn't seem like I can take it back. In an instant her arms are around me, practically squeezing the life out of me.

"Of course he doesn't," she replies fiercely. "And you know what? Even if he did, it wouldn't make it true. Sean just cares about you so much… that's the only reason that he's angry." The words snap something inside of me and I stiffen in her arms.

"Manny, Sean doesn't care about me, okay? He was in love with Ellie, and things didn't work out, and Degrassi is just home for him." Manny studies me and then smiles a little, shrugging her shoulders as she speaks.

"Em, if he doesn't have feelings for you than why were you the first person that he came to see?" The silence is thick for a moment and she continues slowly. "If Sean did have feelings for you, what would you do?" I give her a blank look and cross my arms. The strangeness of the whole scenario, of this whole conversation that I never really thought I'd have, is finally catching up to me. My squirming continues as I search for words. What would I do if Sean told me that he still had feelings for me? Would I really be able to look him in the eye and tell him that I didn't feel the same way, that he's too late and that we never made any sense anyway? If I could, would either of us believe it?

"I have a boyfriend, Manny. His name isn't Sean, his name is Peter. And Peter… he cares about me," I answer pathetically. Even if she wasn't my best friend she would know that I wasn't answering the question; because she is, though, she not only knows, she's going to call me on it.

"That wasn't the question, Emma. Boyfriends… they're dispensable. But love isn't." It's such a corny line that I'd laugh if she wasn't so serious and I wasn't so busy trying to locate an escape route.

"What makes you think that Sean loved me? More importantly, what makes you think that I _still_ love him?" I finally ask. Her eyes are knowing, shining with the hint of compassion that she only spares for me.

"Because you're one of the best liars I know and you can't even look at my face and tell me otherwise."

-0-0-0-

The dining room is silent, and there isn't a person that doesn't know why; the family's token anorexic hasn't so much as attempted to touch her food and she won't even bother offering a reason why. Mom clears her throat meaningfully before swallowing a huge bite of baked ziti, and Manny inquires, less than tactfully, "Aren't these green beans amazing, Emma? They're so juicy and rich and… green bean-ish." I snort and pick up my water glass, forcing down a few swallows and making a show of it.

"Manny, you happen to hate green beans. And for the record, prodding glances aren't going to make the food disappear off my plate any more quickly than threats would." Before a blush can settle onto her cheeks, Snake clears his throat.

"I think that Emma understands what you're trying to say, guys. How about we just ease up on her a little bit? She's been doing so well, and it's a shame to reward that with mistrust," he says gently. Our eyes meet across the table for a moment, and it's all we need to do to apologize to each other. If only I was brave enough to apologize for lying to him, too. I try to make up for it by bolting down dinner, but disgust turns my stomach. Didn't I used to love mom's ziti? It's so hard to remember now that it all tastes like cardboard the moment it hits my mouth.

We finish eating and I'm washing the dishes with Manny when Peter makes a surprise visit. Usually he steers clear of the house, but tonight he seems to be in an especially attentive and demonstrative mood. Oh, joy. "Emma, you won't believe it!" he exclaims, slipping his arms around my waist and kissing me heavily. I know that Snake is watching carefully and Manny is sending him a pointed glare, but he doesn't even seem to notice. "I finished the documentary! It's only the rough cut, of course, but this is huge! It means that I can start thinking about submitting it to some filmmaker's competitions, maybe even a small festival if I'm lucky! This is just… god, I love you!" The train of thought makes no sense, but I don't bother pointing that out, instead smiling at him and nodding as he goes on. He's been working so hard on this, and I find that I actually am proud of him. "You know what? We should celebrate, just the two of us; how about tomorrow I take you out for a romantic dinner, we can go driving in my car…" Spike clears her throat and I send her a comprehensive glance, nodding slightly. She seems surprised, but nevertheless relieved.

"I have a really heavy workload this year, so I may not be able to stay out too late… but dinner sounds good," I tell him gently. If I was expecting him to be upset or even slightly disappointed, he's not. It's like he hardly even notices that I've spoken; notices me at all as he keeps on talking, gaining more and more momentum. I open my mouth to say something, but the doorbell rings and I freeze. I can't explain how I know it's Sean; just something in my gut. It's almost like I can feel him pulling me towards the door. I mutter some incoherent excuse and race to the front of the house, pulling the door open quickly.

Neither of us say anything for a moment; then he gestures with his head to the porch, and I follow him out, closing the door softly behind us. When we're out, he takes two long strides and suddenly he's so close that there's no place that I can be that I'm not surrounded by him. He struggles for words and I reach out for his arm. As soon as I've found it I realize what a stupid mistake it is; the last thing he needs is someone touching him when he's already agitated. Instead of reacting with a few sharp words or by yanking his arm away, though, he hugs me tightly enough to take my breath away. "I'm sorry I walked away from you. God, Em, I just… I wasn't expecting that," he murmurs into my hair. I pull away and take in his face, so hopeful and earnest, and melt the way that I always do when he's like this.

"I'm sorry, too. I hate that I hurt you, and I hate that I did it. I just wish that I could put it all behind me," I confess in frustration. I walk a few feet away and sit down, sighing deeply. He follows in suit, close enough to me that I could lean over and put my head on his shoulder. If I wanted to, that is. "Some days I wonder if I should just walk around with a scarlet letter on my chest. People… they still talk about it. They always will." He offers a small smile and reaches out to finger a strand of my hair.

"Let them try with me around." I'm not sure how our faces end up inches away, but it's over as very pronounced footsteps approach. I jump away, scared of appearances like always. Sean simply sits there for a moment. Before either of us have a chance to say anything, Manny shoves open the door, a fake and bizarrely huge smile gracing her face.

"Sean! It's so nice to have you back!" she practically yells. Peter appears in the doorway behind her, a confused and slightly irritated look on his face.

"Emma, who is this? I didn't realize that you had a guy coming over tonight." My hands find their way to my front pockets and I shrug, trying to smile but failing.

"I didn't; it was just a really nice surprise. Peter, this is Sean… Sean, this is my boyfriend Peter," I introduce awkwardly. Sean stands up and offers Peter his hand, and the two of them stare each other down for a long, infinitely uncomfortable moment.

"You must be _the_ Sean that I've heard so much about," Peter comments. He purses his lips and crosses his arms in what I'm sure he thinks is an intimidating gesture; I would be struggling not to laugh if the situation wasn't so awkward. Thankfully, it's already dark outside and no one can see the embarrassing blush stealing across my face.

"Well, unless Emma knows another Sean, I guess that would be me," he replies, raising his eyebrows at me. What the heck is with people sending me these glances tonight?

"No, this is him. We've been friends for a really long time."

"Friends?" he challenges. From the corner of my eye I can see Manny kick Sean in the shin. Peter looks at me and frowns slightly before glancing back at Sean and snaking an arm around my waist. I move away quickly, too quickly, for a reason that I don't quite understand. All I know is that with Sean looking on, it feels wrong somehow; even more than usual. Manny clears her throat and smiles at Sean.

"Well, you probably have a lot to do, right, Sean? After all, if you're planning on transferring back to Degrassi, you're going to have to play catch-up." He sends her an amused glance as he shakes his head slowly.

"Actually, I'm pretty well set up. Craig and I had a good talk today and he offered me a place on his couch until I can get a job, and I had a meeting with Ms. Hatzilakos yesterday after school."

"You're not staying with Jay anymore," I state. Catching my eye for a moment, he nods slowly as a corner of his mouth twists up.

"Yeah, I guess you can cite irreconcilable differences. We would have needed freaking couples' therapy just to get through a week without rearranging each other's faces." We share a smile before Manny stalks over and latches onto my arm.

"Boys, we really need to be getting inside. The dishes won't do themselves and homework is really a killer this week in math…" she trails off.

"We don't have any math homework this weekend," Peter points out.

"Well, Emma's still not feeling entirely better. She's going to need a lot of rest if she's going to make it to school on Monday," Manny retorts, half leading, half dragging me to the door.

"Emma's stomach bug was on Wednesday. She was in school all of last week, Manny," my boyfriend bites out. I look to Sean for an escape route, and he nods slightly.

"Guys, I'm gonna go… I wanted to catch up with Craig before he heads back out to Vancouver." As he heads off I run after him, catching him by the shoulder of his sweatshirt. He turns around and smiles a little. I hate that suddenly he has to avoid my gaze, looking down at the ground or at the area behind my shoulder. "So that's the boyfriend, huh?"

"Look, Sean, you don't have to go. We can all sit down and talk, and… talk," I finish lamely. Sean smirks and shakes his head, turning down what we both know would be an invitation for distaster.

"I think that between Manny and Peter you've got enough company for now. You should call me later, though… maybe we could hang out tomorrow. Like old times."

"Yeah, like old times. And Sean?" I ask as he walks towards his car. He turns halfway around and I hug him tightly, letting a silly grin come over my face when I step back and see the way his eyes dance. We step away from each other and I let him go, for once having the assurance that I'll see him sooner or later. I don't notice Peter until he's right beside me, eyes set to start rolling at any minute.

"He's got a nice car," he finally mutters. Normally I would put my arms around him, smile, and coo about how much more masculine and attractive his car is, how much more masculine and attractive _he_ is. I did it only two days ago, after all. Instead, I simply nod and fight even harder to try and wipe the grin off my face.

"Yeah, he does."

-0-0-0-

"What were you thinking! If you're going to make out behind your boyfriend's back, it would be wise to make sure that he's _not_ within a fifty foot radius first," she stews.

"Manny, it wasn't like that. We didn't kiss or anything, we just… got kind of close by accident." Manny smirks and shakes her head.

"You and Sean 'getting kind of close by accident' has happened before. Actually, you and Sean going through an ugly break-up and putting everyone else through hell has _also_ happened before, twice: need I remind you of grade seven and grade nine?" I turn from my position at the bathroom mirror and set down my toothbrush on the sink.

"Manny, that was three years ago," I remind her. She walks towards me and grabs me by the shoulders, shaking me slightly.

"Exactly! All the more reason for you to not make the same mistake a third time."

"I'm not even thinking about getting back together with Sean! Who says that it would be a mistake, anyway? Just a few hours ago you were practically shoving the idea of me and Sean down my throat. What changed?" Her eyes shift toward the toilet before she can stop them and she bites her lip.

"Look, Em, I know what I saw at dinner tonight. I just think that maybe with all of the stress that you're under right now, adding a love triangle into the mix might not be the best idea," she finally says. It only takes a moment to shake off the hurt that her implications bring, but it's there for a moment all the same.

"You know what, Manny? If I wanted another therapist I would hire a professional, not someone with even more issues than me." She brings a hand up and scratches her ear, looking down at the floor.

"I know that you're upset right now, Emma…"

"No, I'm not! I'm just so sick of the constant monitoring, okay? Peter gave me the third degree for the better part of an hour after Sean left, and you haven't been able to keep your facial expression even remotely straight tonight." Any interest in backing down is gone, and Manny raises her eyebrows and crosses her arms.

"So we're suddenly the enemy because we care about you? Not everything is meant to be an invasion of privacy," she lectures. There are so many therapy conversations that this reminds me of.

"Okay, you want an invasion of privacy? When is the last time that you talked to your parents? Or, why is it that I can deal with you shunning my boyfriend, no questions asked, when you can't even let me get through a morning without practically frisking me for discarded food?" Tears fill her eyes as I realize too late that I've gone too far. Why can't I ever just keep my mouth shut?

"This is like going through intervention with you all over again," she whispers before brushing past me. A good best friend would go after her and apologize. I haven't been that in awhile, though, so instead I sink down onto the bathroom floor and rest my head on the sink. I can hear her talking to Craig through the door, begging to be picked up and trying to stop crying.

"I'm sorry," I whisper to the tiled floor. My voice echoes faintly, scratchy and strangely emotionless. It's always easier to say the things that need to be said when the person that needs to hear them isn't listening.

-0-0-0-

"Come on, come on, come on," I urge the computer. My English homework was supposed to be a "couldn't wait" at ten; now, three hours later, I'm still leafing through the recycling bin on my desktop trying to recover the photos I deleted after my breakup with Sean. I'm officially starting to scare myself. Just as I think I'm making some sort of progress, the screen blacks out and my computer starts rebooting. After five minutes of gritting my teeth while the screen loads again, I decide to look at pictures of Peter and me instead; those are the pictures that I should have been looking at in the first place.

Just as I'm about to shut it down, though, I find what I've been looking for all night; a poorly taken picture of a squinting but smiling Sean and a too-serious me fighting off a close-lipped smile. His arm is wrapped around my shoulders loosely and our heads are tilted in. That was one of the best days that we had together. I remember that summer; it was the summer where we spent every waking moment joined at the hip, the one where we finally became comfortable making regular physical contact greater than a peck on the cheek. It's hard to believe that three months, three _good_ months, flew by so quickly. Then came grade nine. What had gone so wrong with us that couldn't be fixed? What did I do to make him hate me; what had he done to get such a firm grasp on my heart? They're questions that I haven't asked myself in years, and for good reason; answers never come easily anymore.

I know that I need to get a jumpstart on my schoolwork, but instead I walk back to my bed without bothering to turn the computer off. It's only Saturday night, after all; it's been awhile since I was the responsible one who didn't leave any time for unplanned bumps in the road. As I start to fall asleep I hear Spike singing and smile to myself. Every once in awhile a voice will drift down, late at night, and I'll hear the two of them laughing or talking, always in tones that they think are quiet enough to fade into the floorboards. Before Snake went through chemo I used to try to listen in once in awhile, always wondering what they were talking about in secretive tones that late at night. After treatment it became too painful and I started hearing things that I didn't want to; so I closed my ears. I reach out for my phone, poised to call Peter, or maybe Sean; instead I snap it shut and settle in, tossing and turning until I somehow manage to drift off to sleep.

**Thanks To:**

_Samitiny, _my first and by far most enthusiastic reviewer. I'm really glad that you like my story!

_Jazzy Raveler -- _At first I considered only doing the prologue in first person, but overall it just felt a lot more comfortable to do it first person -- plus, it let me pour a lot of myself into Emma and by extension the story, which always helps to keep me invested and updating.

_MHxxPaper Doll_ -- Yeah, it does seem that progress is painfully slow, huh? I was actually debating putting in a lot more Emma angst and issues and THEN having Sean come in -- but because I can't stand writing something even remotely dramatic/angsty without either 1. humor or 2. romance, I decided that it would be easier to bring him in a lot sooner. Plus, I love Sean too much to do more than one complete chapter without him. And BTW, I like your screen name. :)

_ENSC28, _thanks for the encouragement! I'm going to leave it as is, no spoilers needed.

_Richi03_

_FindMeBroken --_ huh, I'll have to try that technique in real life some day ;). Don't worry, though; regardless of when or why a Pemma break-up happens, it is imminent.

_LuLuOceanEyes --_ Semma kissing scenes are love. I've watched the season premiere at least five times in the last forty-eight hours and I still bite back a scream every time their make-out session comes on (I am allowed to say that, right? I don't think I'm spoiling anyone).


	5. And All the World Is Watching

**Collide**

Written by **Tears of Mercury**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Degrassi. If I did, Peter would have been written out before he was ever written in. Nor do I own "Fix You" by Coldplay, which was uber-helpful while writing this chapter.

**A/N:** The majority of the story will be still be first-person Emma POV, but Sean will definitely get his scenes as well. And this is just a side note: I swear that I didn't intend to make Craig such a central part of this story! He just kind of forced his way in. Don't freak out; there aren't any Cremma/Eman triangles on the horizon, but he does play a very important part in the story. And you've been warned: the beginning of this chapter seems slightly filler-ish. It's in there for reasons that won't make a lot of sense until later on in the story. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! Read and review.

I'm jolted out of my sleep when a heavy, bony body suddenly pounces on top of mine. My first reflex is understandable; most people would hit the closest body part as hard as they could. He rubs his shoulder and sends me the wounded puppy dog look that I've become so accustomed to over the years. "Craig! Get off of me!"

"If there had been any other way to wake you up then I would've done it. I swear, Emma, you sleep like a rock on sedatives," he grumbles, tripping over his feet as he gets up.

"Why are you here in Toronto? You were supposed to be back in Vancouver by now doing publicity for your record. An even better question is why you're here in my basement, if you wouldn't mind enlightening me." Craig rubs his hands together as a devilish grin comes over his face.

"I'm going to bust you out of this prison and get you away from Peter, Manny, your mom, and that little demon you call a half brother for the day. It's been too long since we've had any Craig and Emma time," he asserts. I shoot him a long-suffering look and make my way out of bed in slow motion, stretching and yawning once I reach the bathroom door.

"If you're taking a day off, shouldn't you be spending it with your girlfriend? I'm already having problems with Manny; I don't need her mad at me because her boyfriend chose to spend his get out of jail free day with me instead of her. Besides, I never agreed to any of this." I'm pouting by the end of my little speech, and I know that it must not be very attractive. Thankfully, that's never been a worry of mine around Craig.

"You didn't have to; I decided for you. As for Manny, we had a long talk last night about all of this, and she spent the night. She understands completely," Craig says, stepping towards the stairs and grimacing as I spit out a wad of toothpaste. "I'll be expecting you in five minutes. Please try to make yourself look vaguely human by that time." I toss the plastic toothbrush holder after his retreating back, only allowing a reluctant, indulgent smile after he's gone.

-0-0-0-

"A White Stripes concert. This is your idea of fun?" I demand, looking around uncomfortably. I look like an Old Navy commercial compared to most of the people here. Craig fits right in, naturally. The only explanation that I can come up with is that my ticket was meant for Ellie but she backed out at the last minute; I must have been the only replacement he could find. He glances over and makes his most convincing expression, grabbing me by mid-forearm and helping me through the crowded outdoor stadium. It's a huge, all-day music festival, he explained to me earlier. We only have tickets to see this band, but isn't it awesome? Despite my reservation, Craig's enthusiasm, although not contagious, is endearing.

"Yes, it is. More importantly, it's a group that you would never normally listen to playing at a place that you would never normally be at," he states, raising his eyebrows and waiting for the flash of comprehension to hit me and compel me to shower him with thanks. I stare at him blankly for a good twenty seconds before he sighs and waves his now free hand around. "No one here knows you. There aren't any stares or whispers; you're just like everyone else." I smile, touched at what a sweet gesture it is. Of course Craig would understand the need to fade into the background and be just another face in the crowd.

"So when do they start?" I ask, having to raise my voice over the collective rumbling of the hundreds of conversations swirling around us. A microphone turns on and an electric guitar plays the first chord. He turns to me and shrugs.

"Right now!" Everyone starts screaming and clapping and jumping, and even though the music is too loud, the lead singer's voice too scratchy, it's the most wonderful thing in the world to feel like I'm part of something again.

As the concert comes to a close, he drags me to a back table and purchases me a t-shirt, claiming that I need at least one concert t-shirt if I'm going to be cool enough to hang out with _him._ I almost spray the coke I've bought moments before out of my nose in an effort not to laugh. It seems that the idea isn't anywhere near as funny to him, and he sticks his tongue out before handing over the money -- despite my protests -- and presenting me with the t-shirt. I give him a slight hug as a thank-you and slip it on over my original shirt. He leads me outside and we walk until we find a small diner to eat at. I can't shake the feeling that I've been here before from the moment I walk in to the second I'm handed the menu and seated at a window booth, but I have no idea when I would have come here before or with who.

"Okay, the biggest hamburger you have with the basket of fries and a coke," Craig decides, setting down the menu. It smacks as it hits the table and I jump slightly. I hate this part of going out with Manny or Peter for obvious reasons, and apparently the feeling isn't any different with Craig. I bite my lip and look down defiantly. I promised myself that I would be good after Wednesday night last week. I can do this. I can.

"I'll have… uh… do you guys have any salads?" I inquire. The waitress, an old, chubby woman who must be in her mid sixties, sends me an amused look.

"Honey, it's pure grease and fat here," she teases, chuckling slightly. My stomach lurches at the words and Craig raises his hand in the air, dropping it and smoothing it out to tap the table. I notice his knee jogging up and down and realize that he's just as uneasy as I am. When will I stop alienating and worrying the people that used to have fun with me?

"You know what? I'll take the same thing that he's having, only give me a slice of cheesecake instead of the hamburger," I blurt out. Craig looks like a little kid who's just seen fireworks on Independence Day for the first time. The waitress scribbles the order down and shuffles away. I offer Craig a shrug. "It's better than the _pure_ grease and fat special that she offered." He throws his head back and laughs and I grab a napkin from the napkin dispenser, swatting him with it.

Suddenly it hits me: I've been here before with Sean. We were supposed to see a movie, but it wasn't playing at the usual theater we went to so we came this way. By the time that we realized that we were lost it was time for dinner, so we'd come in here and messed around, playing and laughing and binging on fries that I suspected was going to send us into cardiac arrest on the spot. It was a good day, one that had somehow been misplaced in the shuffled deck of memories that I selected after everything went downhill.

"I knew that you had it in you. You just needed people to get off your damn back for awhile," he comments, tracing the edge of the napkin before ripping the paper up into strips. It takes longer than it should to consider what he's said. Could I really be better, different, if people got off my case? Can I even be trusted without the constant supervision? I certainly didn't do too well without it the last time I had that much freedom.

"Is Manny still really mad about last night?" I whisper. In the back of my head I can't help but think that he must be surprised to see anything but an ice queen exterior from me. I know that that's all people ever see from me anymore; all they expect. Craig sighs and leans back in the bench, frowning slightly as he tries to form the right words.

"She was never mad. She just… Manny worries about you so much, between Peter and everything else, and it hurts her when you push her away. She doesn't understand that there are some wounds that still haven't scarred over, and talking about it with you like that is the equivalent of rubbing salt on them. All she wants is for it to be as easy as possible for you to stay on track." I had easy all summer, I want to tell him. Easy almost killed me. I can't deal with everyone's brand of help anymore; not Spike's, not Manny's, and definitely not Peter's. "Plus, with Sean back and everything hitting the fan in that arena, she was kind of dazed for most of yesterday," he adds, grinning a little.

"Manny told you about the Sean situation," I deduce, groaning slightly. I'd known that the gossip would start once he turned up at school and we hung out there, but I had hoped that it would be contained until then.

"Actually, Sean told me about the Sean situation. The guy was a wreck yesterday… I'm telling you, it was the oddest mix of angry and pathetic that I've ever seen. At least the two of you got everything sorted out. You know, communication and all that stuff." He waves a hand in the air and suddenly perks up as our food comes. I steel myself for the first bite, hoping that maybe if I start with the cheesecake, everything will go down a little bit more easily.

"Was he mad?" I inquire, slicing my fork through the barely-there tip of the cheesecake. After ten seconds of psyching myself up, I push it into my mouth. It's nauseating, but that's a feeling I've grown accustomed to by now. Craig attempts to talk through the hunk of food in his mouth for a moment, but at my shaking head he pauses, chews, and swallows.

"I wouldn't say mad; more like… impassioned," he offers. I cock my head to the side and he looks at me for a beat before shaking his head.

"Yeah, he was pissed, but not so much at you as at Jay. When I left I was pretty sure that the next time I saw Sean would be to hand him his bail money. He calmed himself down, though." Craig pauses to think for a moment and then his face softens with a smile. "I think that he knew that if he was planning on talking to you again, he'd better at least wait to bash Jay's face in until you two were on speaking terms again. I swear you two go back and forth more quickly than any other couple I know." My shoulders stiffen at the words and Craig stops mid-motion as he realizes his slip-up.

"We're not exactly a couple anymore, Craig," I remind him. "I mean, I love Peter. He was there for me the whole time things were so bad last year, helping me get better," I argue, hating that it sounds more like a recitation than the truth. The boy across from me snorts and shakes his head.

"You mean, helping the problem. You can't honestly think that Manny hasn't noticed you eating less when you're around him." I shovel in a huge bite of cheesecake and swallow it quickly; sometimes if I do it fast I can almost pretend that I'm not eating at all. Or that I'm going to throw it all up afterwards. What Craig says is true, and he's right; I hadn't realized that Manny noticed. When Peter would be wearing my nerves particularly thin, I'd play a game with myself to see how little I could eat without him noticing or prodding me. Sometimes it was over half a meal; other times, when we were talking about him, only a few bites.

"Don't blame my eating disorder on Peter. It's not his fault; it's mine." My cheeks burn hotly as Craig gazes back at me nods.

"You're right. But in my opinion, having that jerkoff around is worse for it than a thousand fights between Sean and Peter," he replies. I can almost convince myself that there's no truth in what he says, that it's his bias towards Peter since the video last year that's speaking. Almost.

"It's not that big of a deal. I can control the situation; no drama necessary." I almost combust when I hear myself say the words; my therapist would just pounce on what's coming out of my mouth today. Thank God it's Craig sitting across from me instead.

"Really, Emma? So what happens when you can't control it? What's left to control then?" Okay, maybe I'm not so thankful that Craig is here.

"You know, I already have a therapist. I don't need another one, especially one spouting second-hand drugstore psychology at me," I spit out.

"Maybe it's exactly what you need. Your current one doesn't seem to be doing too hot of a job," he retorts, jamming a fry into the small catsup container on his plate. I can't believe that he just said that. No one else would say something that offensive so flippantly; you would have to be completely insensitive, completely Craig, to go that far without your blood pressure going through the roof. And completely unconcerned with tiptoeing around the glass house that everyone's erected around me over the past four months. Something about the realization makes me break into a laugh, clutching my sides when they start to burn. It doesn't take him long to join in. People would be staring at us if there were any other people in the restaurant; as it is, the waitress is sending us odd looks.

"Why is it that we never ended up together?" I question him. We both know that I'm not serious, and it somehow makes the air lighter as he gets out of his seat and scoots around to my side, resting my head on his shoulder when we're seated side by side.

"Because between my diagnosed bipolar disorder and your undiagnosed obsessive compulsive and bipolar disorders, it would take an entire drugstore to support our medical needs by the time we had kids," he replies. I smile a little, and for a moment I can't help but wonder how this day would have gone if Sean was the one beside me the whole time. It would have been completely different. Even though I wouldn't trade this day for the world, I wish that there was a way to keep this day and still spend the day with Sean. I have a sinking feeling that we won't get to spend as much time with each other as we might want once school starts again tomorrow; boyfriends don't usually appreciate girlfriends who spend more time with their exes than with them.

That sharp longing for the best of both worlds follows me as I leave the diner with Craig and walk back to where he parked his car this morning. Have eating be effortless and lose weight. Control everything and reap the benefits of letting things be. Have the picture-perfect relationship with the picture-perfect boy and have someone who makes me feel happier, angrier, and worse all-over than anyone else. For a moment the storm clouds that have been looming in the sky all day seem ready to burst, and I look up for an answer. Instead they simply stay in place and Craig tells me that there's one more place that he wants us to visit before he takes me home.

-0-0-0-

"Craig, no! I'm not going to your support group!" I yell, stalking off in the other direction. He runs after me and spins me around.

"Just calm down, will you? It's for me, okay? I wanted to say hi to everybody, and since I never got a chance to say goodbye to Ellie," another reason I don't want to be here, I note, "it would be a favor to me. We'll be in there five minutes tops, and if it gets to be too intense than you can just wait in the game room or go and sit out in the car, okay?" We both know that it's a shabbily veiled trap, but he _did_ set aside the better part of the day for me and manage to cheer me up. It would be immature and more than a little ungrateful to give him a hard time about this. After a moment I sigh in resignation and walk towards the room, an ecstatic Craig babbling about how I'm not going to regret this tagging along after me.

From the moment that we get into the room I can tell that it's going to be crap. The kids and the group leader look normal enough, but someone is crying. I'm bad enough with seeing my parents and Manny cry; going through it with a bunch of strangers isn't my idea of an afternoon off. The petite brunette has reassuring, comforting hands laid on both of her arms and someone reaches out to take her hand; most of these people look almost as emotionally exhausted as her.

Craig shuts the door silently, but the barely audible sound draws the attention of a redhead sitting near the end of the circle that's close to us. She looks up and then makes a mad dash across the room, jumping into Craig's arms as a smile lights up her face. "Craig! I can't believe that you came. I thought that you had to be back in Vancouver by now!"

"And miss saying goodbye to you? Besides, Emma and I needed to spend some quality time together," he replies, smiling as they draw away from each other. I can barely contain a smirk when I see Ellie's expression. I'm not really sure if it's the fact that I'm here or the fact that when Craig had a chance to spend the day with a girl that wasn't Manny and spent it with me instead of her that makes her look like he's just spoken in a foreign language. A bunch of completely uncalled-for comments come to mind, but I bite them back and lift the corners of my mouth up in a passable grimace and wave slightly.

"Hi, Emma." Before things can get any more awkward, people start greeting Craig and he introduces me as his "pseudo cousin slash step sister." Room is made in the circle and I sit down uneasily next to Craig and a boy who looks to be fourteen or fifteen and about as thrilled to be here as I am. After Craig catches everyone up on how he's doing, the attention shifts to a lanky, thin raven-haired girl. Her dark eyes cloud as she leans her head in her hands.

"I'm exhausted. I have panic attacks at home, at school, when I try to go out with my friends… it was such a big mistake to go off the medication. Every day I go home so exhausted from trying to hold on that I can barely walk through the front door. I feel like I'm dying, like I've lost all control of myself, and I see myself committing suicide, doing things to myself… I just want it to _end_." I shift in my seat, hating that any compassion that I might have is overridden by my need to get out of here. When I wasn't so worried about appearances, about myself all the time, I was someone who wanted to help. That person must have disappeared with the twenty pounds I lost last spring that haven't all found their way back onto my frame yet. I refocus my gaze, trying to make myself comfortable in my own skin again. I'm not like these people, I remind myself. I'm not, I'm not, I'm not. As I turn my attention back to the meeting and try to focus, though, I'm proven terribly wrong.

"It feels like my body is rejecting food. I'm hideous and huge and eating is like poisoning myself. Every time that I look at food I add up calories in my head. I can't even eat dinner with my boyfriend without slipping off to the bathroom to throw away half the food on my plate on the way there…" Words that mirror my own past actions and many of my present thoughts float around me, taunting me. Equal measures of panic and betrayal rise up in my chest as I grind my teeth, no longer listening. As the girl goes on, I spring from my chair.

"This is your idea of a favor? You're more of a head case than I thought," I hiss at Craig before storming out. He follows me, trying to get me to turn around.

"Emma, I'm sorry. I thought that it might help, having someone to identify with. I know that I wasn't as honest as I should have been with you, but I just wanted you to give it a chance first, and I didn't think that that would happen if you knew what it was right off the bat," he pleads. I spin around to face him.

"You're right; I wouldn't have given it a chance. I'm not like that! I don't have a mental disease! It's pathetic sitting in there and having to be subjected to listening to someone who needs to be committed! And it makes me feel _so_ much better to know that you've drawn some kind of comparison between the two of us! Was this whole day just to get me softened up enough to go in there with you?" All it takes to answer the question for myself is asking it. Of course that was it. Who in their right mind would spend time with Emma Nelson unless it was to get her in some form of therapy or to cart her off to an intervention? Hell, I'll bet Sean's lurking in some shadowy corner just dying to give me the five minute 'you need help' speech.

"It wasn't like that! Honestly, Emma. I just thought that this might help you, you know? Having someone who understands, who isn't going to criticize or judge or get freaked out by things…" I tuck a piece of hair that somehow managed to escape my headband behind my ear and cross my arms.

"Funny; here I was thinking that that person was you." I'm gone before he can say anything, dodging into a nearby ally and coming out onto the other street so that there's no chance of being found. I take off the stupid t-shirt and stuff it into my already-bulging purse, pulling the zipper roughly across. I stop for a moment, taking in an unsteady breath. It's not like this hasn't happened before, not like the day would have been any better if it had been Manny or my mom or Peter. Why am I so upset, then?

For some reason I can't get the day after my break-up with Sean in grade seven when I preached at him for 'going too far' out of my head. Suddenly I understand, and it makes the first tear trickle down my face. I'm upset, I realize, because out of all the terrible crimes that someone can commit against you, the worst way to be disillusioned with someone is to realize that deep down, they don't see you any differently than the rest of the world.

-0-0-0-

I've always loved it when the sun sets on the ocean. It's an almost accidental beauty, like the sun fell into the sky and the water met it randomly and then they looked at the clouds and said, 'did _we _do that?' It's more powerful than ordinary sunsets, ordinary beauty and ordinary color. And sometimes when all you want is to get away from the ugliness that is your life, it's exactly what you need.

I huddle up closer to the trunk of the tree I'm sitting under and begin to regret not having a jacket with me. How could I have known that I would end up here, though? I wasn't supposed to. "There's a slogan for your life," I murmur to myself, scooting over until I can trace a shape into the sand with my finger. I work at it over and over again, not quite sure what it's supposed to be, only knowing that I can't get it right.

"Emma? Is that you?" It takes me a moment to recognize the voice; I haven't heard Sean sounding that worried and hopeful in awhile. I don't answer as he moves closer. "Shit, Emma. Craig has been beside himself all afternoon while Manny blames him and gets more hysterical by the minute and Spike and Snake get ready to call the police and comb all of Toronto for you." He eases down beside me and runs a hand through his hair, pausing to look over at me. I know that he's waiting for some sort of explanation, but I don't give him one. What would I tell him? How could I possibly smooth things over, make it better? "I was worried, too," he finally says.

"This is the second therapy activity that I've run out on in the span of two weeks," I inform him, still looking straight ahead. I draw my arms further over my knees, making a futile effort to intercept the chill that's setting into my bones.

"You're cold." He takes off his hoodie and wraps it around my shoulders. His movements are tender, his eyes full of concern that I could only tolerate coming from him.

"How did you know to look for me here?"

"Lucky guess, really. We'd tried everywhere else, and I just… I thought that maybe if it meant as much to you as it did to me, I might be right. It's the one place that no one would think to look for you." Besides a van in the ravine, I think, or in a hospital bed hooked up to oxygen because my eating disorder brought on a panic attack.

"Except you," I point out. I look at him, met back by eyes that have somehow come to mirror my own in a way I can't begin to fathom. He rests his hand on top of mine.

"Except for me." It's the perfect place to end the conversation, to say 'let's go home' and get up and let him take me back. I know that he won't make me talk about it if I don't want to; he's always been that way. But for reasons that I will never understand, I can't be as forgiving of myself as he is.

"I just needed to be the only one. If there were other people who went through that, who did that, then in some sense it was… normal? No; that's not it… understandable, I guess. And when the only way that you can get through the day without purging is to drill into yourself that healthy, normal people don't do that, that you're a freak to be so different… I can't take knowing that maybe I'm not so different after all," I say, my voice trembling. His hand closes over mine as I continue. "And, and, it just makes how everyone else sees me so much harder to deal with, because that means that maybe someday I _could_ be who they want me to be so badly, and they might not even be able to see it." I know that what I'm saying isn't making much sense, but maybe it's not supposed to. Maybe _I'm_ not supposed to.

Suddenly my shoulders start to quake and my body starts going through spasms. I try to take in a ragged breath, but a choked, muffled cry comes out instead. Sean pulls me into him tightly and I bury my head in his shoulder, fighting to stop it, turn it off like I always do, but ultimately powerless to close my mouth around the whimpers that keep escaping it. Tears fall furiously and something in the center of my chest squeezes tighter and tighter until I think it's going to make me explode. His hand strokes my hair and he whispers some comforting, indecipherable endearment into my ear, and in a moment I'm gasping for air again.

As sobs gradually turn into softer, more subdued whimpers, I smile at the thought that runs through my mind. This, I remember, is what it's like to cry for real, and I've never enjoyed the awful experience more.

-0-0-0-

When we finally pull up to my house he turns the key in the ignition and waits a moment or two to speak. "Ready?" he asks, and I glance at the front door, which already has people spilling out of it. I nod my head and he gets out before coming over and opening my door for me. Normally I would make some argument about feminism, but tonight it's too cold and I'm too worn out to be anything but grateful. As I stand up I see mom and dad coming toward me, Manny and Craig hanging back unsurely. I turn to face Sean, not knowing how to say goodbye. Before I can say anything at all, he leans in and kisses my forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow at school." I nod and move to take off the hoodie, but he shakes his head and lays a hand on my shoulder. "Keep it for tonight. It looks better on you anyway." I smile at him and bite my lip as he gets back into the car and sends me one final glance before driving away. Spike and Snake reach me and Snake doesn't waste any time beginning the mandatory, deserved lecture.

"Emma, what were you thinking? No one had any idea where you were, and we were all worried sick!" I nod and grab one of the ties on the hoodie, twisting it around until it's bunched up in a tight coil.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have," I relent, giving her what's possibly the easiest genuine apology she's ever gotten from me.

"Emma, have you been crying?" Snake asks, taking in my face. His own face is partly shadowed in the darkness surrounding us, the only illumination a weak porch light.

"Yeah, I have," I answer him, ducking my head and trudging to Manny and Craig. I hug Manny first and let her yell, tearful and emotional and angry out of her mind, before I turn to Craig. So now he knows, I muse, what it's like to be on the other end of a mini-ordeal like this one.

"I couldn't leave before saying goodbye and making sure you were okay," he explains when Manny is done.

"I am. I know that you didn't mean any harm, and I… I'm… I'm sorry for yelling and running out," I apologize. He hugs me tightly for a moment before he turns and motions to a car pulling up.

"It turns out that Sean was right with the time that you guys would be home. That's my ride."

"Go break a million hearts and sell at least as many CDs," I tease him.

"Sure. And just so you know, your new screen saver? I can keep a secret." I suddenly remember that I never took down the picture of Sean and I from last night and groan slightly. He smiles and we hug again before he goes over to say goodbye to my parents. His goodbye with Manny takes five minutes, at least three of which are spent kissing heavily and two of which are spent with her crying and him struggling to hold it together. When he finally hops into the car he offers a wave before it's out of sight, and I turn and hug Manny, glad that for once I'm not the cause of her tears. It may have been a long day for me but it's going to be a long night for her. When we're finally settled in bed, she turns on her side to look at me and frowns slightly.

"Em, promise me something?"

"Anything for you," I reply.

"Promise that the next time you fall off the face of the earth you'll take me with you." We both know that she isn't just talking about today, and it makes the moment even sweeter when I reach out and grip her hand.

"I swear."

**Thanks To:**

_BeautifulxDreamer_ – thanks for the kind words! I try to be true to the show and the characters in my writing.

_Samitiny_

_MHxxPAPER Doll_ – I'm glad to hear that you think the story is getting better. I'm curious to see what you'll think of this chapter. If you were disappointed that Sean wasn't in it all that much, don't worry; he'll have some substantial space in the next chapter. 

_Jazzy Raveler_ – thanks for the long review! And I completely understand about not wanting to get spoiled… if Degrassi hadn't been gone so freakin' long I might have tried the spoiler-free route myself. Past the two of them meeting, though, I'm really not planning on keeping anything that happened in the premiere, especially the (hopefully temporary) sad ending to HCYM.  And as far as the reviewer responses go – I just feel like a hypocrite if I ask people to review and don't at least thank them for it, if not reviewing some fic of theirs. This fanfic shouldn't be done for awhile yet.

_And thanks to the readers who aren't reviewing! I know that you're out there, and if you feel like dropping a note, awesome, and if not I hope that you're enjoying all the same!_


	6. Pretty Girl The Way

**Collide**

Written by **Tears of Mercury**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Degrassi. Nor do I own the lovely line "_Nothing_ could compare to the real thing." –squees at Eman love- I do WISH I owned Daniel Clark, though.

**A/N:** I can't believe it's been over a month! I'm so incredibly sorry and thank you guys so much for your patience. If the last two pages hadn't been so hard, it would've been up so much sooner. But regardless, it was great to give myself a chance to miss the story and then get re-inspired. I hope that you guys enjoy this chapter and apologize for the mini cliff hanger. Hopefully this chapter will tie up the one loose end I feel like I've left hanging for a little bit. Enjoy! And Matthew, this chapter is dedicated to you, baby brother, for many shared TV viewing experiences at six in the morning. I hope that the "giiiiirl" stuff isn't _too_ over-the-top.

The TV plays softly, the volume so low that I might as well mute it. I've been sitting here watching the news since four in the morning; I'm not sure why I thought that blood, guts, and tidings of impending and ongoing wars would lull me to sleep. Obviously, three hours later, it hasn't helped. I'm startled by the patter of feet, too loud to be Spike's and too light to be Manny's or Snake's. I smile while Jack stares at me through his sleepy haze, still garbed in his Scooby Doo pajamas. "What're you watchin', Emma?"

"Nothing you'd like," I reply as he crawls up, settling in beside me. A yawn escapes his mouth as he looks to the screen and wrinkles his nose.

"No, I don't like," he remarks. I'm about to offer him the remote when his head hits my shoulder. A lump rises in my throat when I realize that he's asleep, and even though I know that I should get him back to bed so he can catch another hour of comfortable sleep, I selfishly lean back and close my own eyes. When Snake had cancer and I had to baby-sit so often, I would sit on the couch with Jack in one arm, a pencil and a piece of paper for whatever homework I was doing in the other. Sometimes it felt like he was almost as much my baby as he was Spike's, and although I resented it sometimes, a part of me felt proud to be such a huge part of his life. Then he grew up… only a little, but enough that I was practically a stranger.

In moments like this, I feel like his big sister. He's the one person that I'm just plain old Emma to; not his anorexic big sister or Peter's girlfriend and Sean's ex-girlfriend, not the girl with feelings that she can't begin to decipher. And somehow, just having someone who sees me through those eyes makes it almost possible to see myself that way. I reach out to stroke his head, blinking back tears for some unknown reason. "I'm going to be a mess today," I mutter, swiping at my eyes.

"That makes two of us," whispers a weak voice from the stairs. I look up and see Snake making his way to the kitchen, offering me a brief smile. That's not what catches my attention, though; it's the small trail of blood coming out of his nose. I get up, making sure that Jack's head falls on a pillow before moving into the kitchen, grabbing a tissue and bringing it to Snake.

"Your nose is all bloody," I explain, and he nods slightly.

"I know… I was actually coming down to call my doctor." I close my eyes and take a deep breath at the words, willing myself to relax. This is good, I know. This way, the doctor can clear things up and assure us that nothing is wrong, nothing at all. "You were right, Emma. I haven't felt good for awhile, and putting it off will just make things worse… I'm going to have a long talk with Spike this morning." I reach up a hand to blot at a stray drop of blood, trying to focus on that solitary task and tune out his words. "Emma, please say something. Talk to me," he pleads, grabbing my hand.

"You're going to need a substitute. Do you want me to call the school first? Because, you know, it'll be better if they know now that you won't be coming in today, and obviously if cancer is killing you than you're not well enough to go and teach a bunch of kids."

"Emma…"

"Don't, just don't!" I yell, snatching my hands back. "Don't talk to me and make plans for today and for getting tested and going back to chemo and shaving your head in front of the entire school. No more! Not again!" I hate that I'm being so childish, so emotional when Snake needs me the most, but this is the time when I need him the most, too. It's all so unfair. Memories of late-night baby-sitting stints and a broken Snake lying on the bathroom floor in tears swim before my eyes and for a moment I think that I might pass out.

"I'm scared, too. I don't know if I can do it either," he says comfortingly. I crumple into his arms and he hugs me tightly. This can't happen to Snake. He's become a father to me over the years; he was the one to come with my mom to rescue me from Jordan, the one that I went to after the shooting, and the parent that I trusted with the secret of my STD.

"You can do it. You have to," I reply. "You're my dad. I need you around." My voice wobbles dangerously, only soothed at his next words.

"I'm not planning on going anywhere."

-0-0-0-

"It's going to be a tough day, huh?" Manny reaches out for my hand and nods, her eyes brimming with tears. I turn around and hug her, glad that Snake hasn't broken the news to her yet; the last thing that she needs is to hear that she'll have to either move back in with her parents or deal with being around the house while Snake goes through chemo. _If_ he has to go through chemo at all, I remind myself. Nothing is certain until the blood work comes back. Nothing is certain, of course, but bloody noses and bruises that take too long to heal.

"I don't know why it's so hard for me to say goodbye this time. Last time it was hard, but not… not like this. This feels permanent for some reason."

"Are you guys having problems?" I ask cautiously. She shakes her head, lips pursed.

"No, but… he just… he said some things, completely innocent things, while he was here. About how Ellie came up to see him one weekend, and all of these things that I supposedly wouldn't understand about the music business, and… she called twice Saturday night, Em. And he talked to her, twice. What am I supposed to think?" she asks.

"You're supposed think that Craig is madly in love with you and that he realizes just how lucky he is to have you. He and Ellie are just good friends because of group and because they were in the band together," I assure her, smiling until I get her to smile back at me. I know what it's like to be insecure, but after seeing the way that Craig looked at Manny last night, I can't understand how she can even question whether or not he loves her. I'm set to joke, telling her that I'm jealous of the relationship she has, but it falls dead on my lips as I realize that it wouldn't be much of a joke to either of us right now. Manny switches the subject.

"So, what happened with you and Sean last night?"

"Try _nothing_," I reply, a little too quickly. "He came, said that everyone was worried, and then we went home." She cocks her brow at me and a smile tugs at the corners of her lips.

"Are you sure there weren't any secret make-out sessions in there? He seemed awfully possessive when the two of you pulled up." I laugh out loud at the suggestion.

"Sean is a lot of things, but he's never been possessive. Besides, he was just being nice… I was cold, so he let me borrow his jacket." I leave out how deeply the small gesture touched me and how then proceeded to fall apart in his arms, grateful beyond words that he was there to catch me.

"And of course, that little kiss on the forehead and those soulful gazes didn't mean anything either," she replies.

"Very funny, Manny. You know that there's nothing between Sean and me!" Her eyes flicker behind me and she tries to send me a warning glance. I'm not quite sure why until I turn around, almost bumping into my boyfriend. "Peter! I wasn't expecting to see you!" I squeak, leaning up to give him a quick peck on the lips.

"Really? It _is_ school," he replies, and I laugh nervously. I know that I'll need to do damage control after unintentionally avoiding him yesterday and that little remark about Sean that he overheard. Before I have a chance to say something, my eyes find Sean, and he's coming right toward us. There's that hint of a grin on his face, and out of something that I convince myself is only habit, I can't resist smiling back.

"Hey, Em." I nod slightly, trying to play the situation off. Peter glares at Manny, Manny is looking between me and Sean and giving me her trademark "I told you so" smirk, and Sean doesn't seem to be seeing anything but me. "Are you feeling better?" In truth, I've still been shaken since Snake's news this morning, but it isn't the time or the place to open up about that.

"Yeah, I'm doing a lot better now. Oh, I brought your sweatshirt… thanks again for the loan." He smiles almost imperceptibly and accepts it when I pull it out of my bag, finally sparing a glance to Peter and Manny and nodding at them before turning his attention back to me.

"I guess I'll see you in calculus." I nod, struggling to contain the odd urge to _squeal _that's building up in my chest. Of all the weird things…

"Later." I give him a slight wave as he walks off, turning to face Manny and Peter. The blatant jealousy on Peter's face is almost as irritating as the knowing smile playing across Manny's face; I'm expecting her to break into a victory dance at any moment.

"You were spending time with Sean yesterday?"

"Actually, she spent the day with Craig and then got lost going home. Sean picked her up and gave her a ride," Manny cuts in. Manny, who has been getting on my case about Sean since he got here from Wasaga Beach. But as much as Peter despises Craig, it still beats hearing that your girlfriend is spending time with her ex. Before Peter can finish the sentence already tumbling out of his mouth, the bell sounds loudly. Throughout the day I try repeatedly to focus on my schoolwork, but I can't get a familiar pair of baby blue eyes out my mind. For a moment I wonder if maybe Manny is right after all, if I am falling for Sean all over again or ever got over him in the first place, but the thought scares me so profoundly than I shove it down and focus on making it through the day. That, it seems, is more than enough to sap me of my energy these days.

**-0-0-0-**

"Hey, hey, slow down there!" Manny squawked, managing to grab Sean's arm between shallow, frequent breaths. "No offense, but I think that you need to start picking up the pace, okay?" she complained, sarcasm laced through her words. Sean sighed and shifted his books.

"What is it that you want, Manny? I can count on one hand the number of times we've talked apart from Emma, and it's never been about anything but her when we do," he said. School had killed him today, and he had been hoping to catch Emma before she left… Manny stood in front of him, arms crossed and one hip jutted out.

"Do you not remember the little talk that we had yesterday?"

"Oh, you mean the one where you practically threatened to slap a restraining order on me if I didn't stop talking to Emma? Gee, I'd almost forgotten about that one," he snapped.

"That's not what I said and you know it. I'd like nothing more than to see Emma happy again, but Sean… if you have feelings for her, you had better let her know where you stand, and soon, or steer clear of her altogether. You don't even know half of the things that are going on with her right now."

"And you do? When is the last time that she felt like she could talk to _any_ of you about the shit that she's going through?" Manny reeled back as if he'd physically hit her.

"You know what, Sean? The next time you want to preach at me about not being there for the people closest to me, I'd advise you to remember running off to Wasaga two years ago." Sean remained silent. The brunette stepped toward him, searching his eyes for a moment before shaking her head. "You know, Ellie wasn't the only one who cried herself to sleep every night after you left; she's just the only one you heard about." Her footsteps barely sounded on the asphalt as she walked away.

As Sean went back to Craig's, did his homework in the basement, and finally dressed for bed, he couldn't get the image of a haunted, willowy blonde with tears in her eyes out of his mind. He had promised himself ages ago to never again be the cause of her tears, but he always seemed to find one way or another to screw things up between the two of them. And there was, whether she was willing to admit it or not, still a two of them.

**-0-0-0-**

I manage to catch Snake at a quiet moment with no one else around and touch him slightly on the arm, just enough to get his attention. "So when are the results from the tests going to come back?" I ask, not really wanting to know as much as needing to.

"They'll be back by Friday." He sighs, shifting the briefcase under his arm to his other side. "Emma, I don't want you to worry about this, okay? I know that you're always ready to swoop in and save the world; it's one of the things that I love about you. But this… let's just wait and see what happens. Your mom and I put a lot of pressure on you when I was diagnosed the first time around, and even though we didn't see another option at the time, it was a huge mistake. You've been through a lot the past couple of years, and I just want you to know… if you need something, you can tell me and Spike. It's okay to need something." The words mean more to me than he knows, maybe because I don't remember anyone ever saying them before.

"Thank you, Dad. And for more than just… this," I say, trying to clumsily thank him for being the only one who seems to be okay with the idea that I may never get back to the girl that I was when we first met. He looks at me oddly for a moment and then smiles.

"Hey, it's my job. I love you and Jack to death, and I know that I don't say it very often…" he trails off when I start getting misty-eyed and clears his throat. "No more tears today. There have been too many of those lately, and it's time to start seeing a few smiles." I laugh shakily and he touches my arm. "Promise?" His voice is husky, hinting at the onset of tears, but I know that he'd be embarrassed if I pointed it out, so I pretend that I don't see.

"I promise," I reply, waving as I step out of the room. I make my way to my locker, restraining from rolling my eyes when I see Peter standing there. "Hey, what's up?"

"Well, we usually meet at your locker after school," he reminds me. I can tell that something is wrong, but I don't bother asking what. At this point I don't think I can deal with anymore drama.

"I'm sorry I was late; I was just got caught up in a really important conversation," I apologize emotionlessly. He looks at the floor for a moment and scuffs it up with his sneakers before swinging his gaze up to me.

"Was this conversation with Sean?" Of course. How could I have been so stupid, actually thinking that Peter might be dissatisfied with our relationship for a reason besides my physical withdrawal or another guy?

"Actually, it was a conversation with Snake. We've had some family issues lately, and it's been kind of hard on us," I inform him, snapping my locker shut and grabbing my book bag. "I would have mentioned it, but every time that I call you lately you're too busy working on your documentary." I'm probably not being fair; when he is paying attention to me I feel stifled. Somehow Peter's relationship extremes don't seem to be something I can blame on myself anymore, though. I start to walk away, but naturally it isn't that easy to end the fight.

"Emma, wait up! I'm sorry that I haven't been around lately, but that doesn't give you any right to start hooking up with your ex!" I whip around to face him. Of all the completely idiotic accusations to make, that has to be the most laughable. Well, maybe not _that_ idiotic, considering our history…

"Me and Sean?! He's only been in town since Saturday and you're already jumping down my throat! Do you even remember me telling you that he was living with a girl before he left for Wasaga? He doesn't see me like that, and even if he did you know I'm not that type of girl, Peter."

"You were flirting with him right in front of me this morning! There's something going on, and I hate that you won't just come out and tell me!" he shouts, stopping in the middle of the hall. A few people walk past, shooting us looks. Why did he have to do this here, of all places? Not that it would've been so much better if it was somewhere else; but I never have been able to get over my second-nature avoidance of public fights.

"Look, I don't know what you want me to say but no, there isn't anything going on. Sean's an old friend, okay? He saved my life! So I'm sorry if it makes you feel uncomfortable that we hang out sometimes, but if you're giving me an ultimatum than the answer is no, I'm not going to stop talking to him!" I'm set to storm off or plant myself in place, glaring at him until he gets the message and walks away, when he reaches out for my arm.

"Emma, please. I'm sorry, okay? I know that I'm being a jerk, but I'm just scared of losing you, especially after we fought so hard to be together last year. I just… I love you," he pleads. It hurts more than it should to realize that maybe, even if he is in the wrong here, I'm not without fault either. I never am.

"It's fine. Don't worry so much. If I was going anywhere, don't you think that I would have gone by now?" I point out. As he kisses me and the hollowness that had receded the past couple of days comes back full force, I dig my nails into my hands at the guilt of it all. There's no way that he could know that words so comforting to him leave an aching in the center of my chest.

"Look, I want to make this up to you. How about we have that dinner that we were talking about Friday?" Before I have the chance to let him know that there's a very good chance that I'll be informed that my step father is out of remission and won't feel like going out that day, he adds, "Wear something dressy, okay?" I'm about to say no. I really am. If I'm being especially decent, I might even get up the nerve to break up with him. But the old fear of being alone and not having someone who wants me in some form or the other overpowers me and I nod in agreement, hating myself for being so damn selfish.

"I'll go shopping with Manny this afternoon. We both need a diversion, anyway." He kisses me goodbye passionately, no doubt happy that he's defused what could have been a very nasty fight. When I get to the parking lot Manny is leaning against the railing that splits the front steps down the middle. Something is gnawing at her, but I'm not quite sure what. "Don't look so gloomy. You'll get premature frown lines," I joke, sidling up to her and putting an arm around her. When she doesn't respond I look over uncertainly. I haven't seen her this upset in awhile, and it's starting to scare me. "Are you ready to get out of here?" I finally ask, fiddling with the strap of my messenger bag.

"You have no idea," she says, leaning her head against mine for just a moment before we link arms and walk towards home.

-0-0-0-

"Em, you have to try this on! It would look so cute with that denim mini-skirt that you bought last week." I whack her gently with the dress I'm appraising.

"Manny, stay focused! I have to find something to wear this Friday. What the heck did he mean by 'dress up,' anyway? Does that mean a nice pair of khakis and a cute top or a ball gown?" After two and a half hours of unsuccessful searching I'm getting ready to bang my head repeatedly against the nearest wall before trotting back home with my tail between my legs and looking for something remotely formal that Peter hasn't seen me in a hundred times.

"You should just wear that really cute dress that you wore last year to my Degrassi play. Or what about your grade eleven prom dress? It looked great on you, and if you dress it up he won't even… oh my god, Emma. Look. This. Is. THE. DRESS!!!" she squeals, holding it up to me. The words of irritation fall dead on my lips when I look at the dress that she's holding up. It's a simple purple sheath, the crisscross straps in the back thin but not too revealing, and the hemline coming down to mid-calf and tapering off in small ruffles. There are a million reasons why it's too formal or too expensive, the first and foremost that I've hated that deep shade of purple for as long as I can remember. It's gorgeous, though, and as I find myself staring at my reflection in the dressing room mirror five minutes later, I can hardly bear to take it off, much less put it back on the shelf. Manny's reflection appears next to mine, the hands on her hips and the satisfied smile on her face making her look more like a proud parent than a best friend. "I told you! This is going to be the most romantic date of your life… even if you do have to spend it with Peter." She wrinkles her nose in disgust and I pick up the price tag.

"I'll tell you what; if you loan me half the money, I'll let you borrow it the next time Craig comes into town," I bargain. She lets out a snort.

"Emma, even if I could come remotely close to fitting into the same clothing as you, I have a feeling that Peter's end-of-the-evening plans will require a ceremonial burning of the dress as soon as you get in." I smack her arm absentmindedly, hating that for once my nervousness trumps my indignation. It's unnerving how even the thought of taking that step with someone other than… with _anyone,_ I mean… seems to reduce me to the grade seven who's just realized that bleach was invented for a reason and that sooner or later, everyone has to grow up. I was right to be worried that time; I can only hope that this time will be different.

-0-0-0-

The rest of the week passes slowly, and I alternate between spending time with Manny and Sean and slipping away for the required make-out sessions and "how was your day?" conversations with Peter. The two of us are better than we've been in awhile, but I still can't think of anything but Sean every time I lean over and kiss my current boyfriend. It's dysfunctional and wrong on so many levels, and if I didn't feel so safe and so completely terrified every time I made eye contact with Sean, I might tell Peter the truth. I've never wanted to believe that I'm one of those people that would intentionally use another person, manipulate them for their own benefit. It seems to be exactly what I'm doing, though, and I'm too afraid of the outcome to put a stop to my playacting. Possibly the worst part is that I don't confide with any out of the three people closest to me about the test results that my family's been waiting on for days.

I've barely gotten in the door Friday afternoon when Spike runs up to me, clutching me tightly. It can only mean one thing, and I cling to her, tears flowing down my face. "Oh, mom," I choke out, burying my face in her neck. She pulls away from me, smiling and laughing and crying at the same time.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry. I must've scared you to death. It's actually great news. There's nothing at all wrong with Snake other than a common cold." Disbelief coils in my stomach, and I search her face for any sign of dishonesty.

"But that's impossible. What… what about the nose bleed?" I demand.

"He got them all the time when he was a kid. He still gets them every once in a blue moon; he just assumed that it was more serious because of his medical history. Emma, Snake is going to be fine." When Manny walks in the door five minutes later we draw her into the hug too, giggling when she asks us who died.

"No one. No one at all," I answer, brushing the last remnants of tears from my face.

-0-0-0-

"Manny, this purple eye shadow is making me look like a hooker," I complain, drawing my arms around my middle. The girl in the mirror is almost completely expressionless, but her hands shake slightly and she blinks rapidly, mouth opened wide as Manny expertly applies lipstick.

"You have way too much class to look like a hooker. Now c'mere and let me get in another coat of mascara before we start ripping my side of the room apart for the clutch I promised to lend you…" The doorbell rings loudly, and we both stare at each other for a moment. Peter may be many things, but punctual isn't one of them. We should have had at least ten more minutes before he got here. We _need_ ten more minutes before he gets here. Just as I'm about to start hyperventilating, Snake's amused and refreshingly teasing voice travels down the stairs.

"Emma, there's a young man here for you." I clutch Manny's arm, sending her a pleading glance. She shakes her head firmly back and forth, dragging me toward the steps.

"She'll be right up, Mr. S," she calls, immediately dropping her voice to a harsh, frenzied whisper. "Em, I am _not_ going to force myself to have five minutes of polite conversation with Peter, even for you. Look, just slip on your heels and you'll be fine; you don't need the purse anyway." Arguing proves futile, so I slip on the sandals and trudge upstairs, head down and cheeks beet red.

"I didn't think that you'd be here this soon. You're usually a little –" The moment I look up I regret it. "Sean," I manage, my eyebrows rising and my mouth hanging open. He doesn't seem to hear a word that I'm saying, and as those eyes that I know so well bore a hole into me, stare through me, and somehow find me again, my heart breaks. When he finally remembers himself he nods distractedly, a hint of a smile on his lips.

"You look beautiful. I don't think… I'm not sure that you've ever looked this gorgeous before." It's funny how it's always something little that makes me fall for Sean Cameron all over again: talk about his old dog; the hurt in his eyes as he brushes off my apology for a rescinded wedding invitation; a simple compliment that makes me forget that anyone but the two of us are in the same room.

"I, uh… I wasn't expecting… thank you," I whisper, wringing my hands. The doorbell rings again and I jump slightly, closing my eyes as I try to steady myself. "That's probably Peter. I need to get going. Was there something that you needed?" My voice trembles slightly. For a moment he seems to hesitate, but he simply shakes his head.

"No, nothing I can't do without. Uh, do you think that we could talk later? Whenever is good for you. I just…" I avoid his eyes at all cost and nod my head stiffly in a gesture that we both know doesn't mean a thing.

"Sure. That would be good." I'm jolted by the gentle thumb that swipes a stray tendril of hair behind my ear.

"It was…" he motions awkwardly with his hand, "falling into your face." I nod, sparing a small smile in thanks. The urge to blurt out the words "I love you" is suddenly unbearable, and it's this realization that startles me enough to back away.

"I'll talk to you later, then." Without waiting for a reply I stride toward the front door, answering it just as Peter raises his hand to knock. He has a single red rose in his hands and a faint smile passes over his features as he takes me in. "Sorry about the wait."

"Hey, this is more than worth waiting for," he replies, taking me by the arm and leading me toward his car. It's only after we're driving away that I realize that I left Sean standing in the middle of my kitchen.

**Thanks To:**

_Samitiny –_ Your enthusiastic reviews continue to be SUCH a huge inspiration to me! Thanks so much, and I honestly hope that you love this chapter as much as I loved writing it.

_MHxxPAPERDOLL –_ I love Craig. Dammit, I don't want to love the manwhore that's broken three hearts, but he's just too adorable not to. I agree; Craig does seem to bring a certain flavor to Eman fics.

_BeautifulxDreamer –_ This chapter should shed a little light on that, and if not, just wait for the next chapter! 

_Sopherdoodle –_ Thanks for the review, and I'm glad you're enjoying my story! And don't you just love how typos pop up at the most inconvenient moments:P

_FuN FiFi –_ Thank you! Emma's just one of those characters that got so under my skin (in a good way) that eventually I felt comfortable enough to try jumping into hers. Is it just me, or did that sentence make no sense?

_Oua _

_Danyu –_ Ah! Someone who likes Leyton and Eman, and is a wonderful writer to boot? I've just died and gone to heaven! You'll have to be careful, or in the future you may end up getting a bunch of jumbled PMs about an idea I've had for a DegrassixOTH crossover.


	7. Wonderwall

**A/N: **We are officially at fifty-nine pages! Boo-yah! –settles down- Okay, now this chapter is admittedly shorter than my usual chapters, but adding any more to the length didn't seem right and there's tons of drama and fluff (hint, hint) packed in. I'm so happy that I get to post this on Christmas Eve, so let me just take a moment to dedicate this chapter to all of you, my faithful readers and reviewers. Whether tomorrow signifies the birth of the savior of the world, a time of family togetherness and love, or just another day until Hanukkah, I wish that your holiday season would be blessed. This is my Christmas present to you. Now, onto official business… **After the first section of this chapter, we do a time jump backwards.** I know this means that any claim I had to writing a non-cliché fanfiction is probably going down the drain with this and that I'm probably breaking tons of rules, but it worked with the chapter much better this way. It'll make much more sense once you read it. I hope you all enjoy!

"I can't believe you!" I scream, walking quickly across the asphalt. I have no idea how I'm going to get home, how I'm going to keep the tears of humiliation at bay any longer, or how my feet are going to last one more minute in these heels.

"Emma, wait! It was a one-time thing, and I was kind of buzzed and you weren't there—" I whirl around to face him, my voice raising another decibel.

"So cheating on me when I'm out of town is excusable?! I should have known that you were only using me to get to her. That you were only using me period," I spit out. When I turn again Peter's hand closes around the wrist I twisted this morning. I shove him off me with a squeal of surprise, and suddenly someone is running towards us. In moments Peter is under him on the ground, pitifully trying to ward off the punches. "Sean, stop it! You'll seriously hurt him!" People are bursting out of the restaurant and it looks like someone is pulling out their cell phone to call the cops. Panic fills me. My voice catches in my throat as I look on, frozen in place. Sean, you have to stop, I want to say, but I feel helpless to stop any of this. Despite the increasing sense of déjà vu, I make my feet move forward and grab his elbow when he's paused for a moment. "Sean, please."

**-0-0-0-**

Sean looked around the kitchen of the Nelson household. There wasn't a hole in the ground to swallow him up, and apparently there wasn't a back door, either. "Jack, sweetie, how many times do I have to tell you not to eat the acorns lying underneath trees?" He started at Mrs. Nelson's voice coming from the next room. How did he explain this without looking like a complete ass or lying through his teeth? _The basement window. Of course._ Sean practically sprinted to the door, swinging it open to reveal Manny precariously leaned up against the doorframe.

"Were you eavesdropping?" he asked incredulously. The raven-haired girl pulled him through the door and shut it quickly.

"Downstairs now," she hissed. After swaying for a moment, Sean regained his balance and joined Manny on the bottom step. "I heard your voice, and I was… curious. I could only get bits and pieces of the conversation, though. So I may have edged a little bit closer to the door…" Manny admitted guiltily. "But what's _your_ excuse? You come over here, clearly set on declaring your undying love for her, and then you chicken out because she's a little skittish?"

"Peter was at the door," Sean argued weakly, running a hand through his hair as he settled in next to her with a decided thump. "And she was standing there looking like something out of a fairy tale, and all I could think was, 'This is it? This is the grand moment where I tell her to break up with her boyfriend and be with me?' We both know I don't deserve her, Manny. I never have."

"Okay, first of all, Emma Nelson isn't a high maintenance girl, contrary to popular belief. And after all of the mistakes she's made and all of the crappy things that have happened to her, I can't believe you still have her on this pedestal. She's _not_ too good for you. She certainly doesn't think so," she pointed out.

"She practically ran out the door, Manny. Tell me what that is if it's not rejection."

"It's fear, plain and simple," Manny replied. "You don't realize how in love with you she is. _She_ doesn't even realize it. But you have the power to break her heart… again. If I thought for one second that you would, we wouldn't be having this conversation." Sean leaned forward and took the words in.

"So what am I supposed to do?" he finally asked. A smile lit up Manny's face.

"I know the name of the place where Peter is taking her. Go there, tell her how you feel, and give her the kiss of her life. The grease stains on your wife beater are unfortunate, but we don't have much else to work with," she said, wrinkling her nose. After a moment's hesitation, Sean stood up. "But I swear Sean Cameron, if you screw this up I will hunt you down and beat your bad gangsta ass," Manny threatened. Suddenly she was engulfed in a bear hug from an excited, adrenaline-filled Sean. "Yeah, I know, I'm the life preserver of this dysfunctional relationship. Now let me write down the address before I change my mind."

-0-0-0-

My eyes wander around the restaurant uneasily, taking in the upper-end clientele and the layout of the open room. It feels suspiciously more like a museum than a place to eat. Instead of saying any of this to Peter, though, my mind continues to drift back to the boy who may very well still be standing in my house. A tangle of thoughts race through my head, each vying to be heard above the others. _I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. Why did you have to do this to me again? Why can't I ever help myself when it comes to you? I have a boyfriend! And he loves me and he's not going to leave me at the first sign of trouble, which is more than I could ever say about you. I don't deserve any of this; the good or the bad. I hate knowing that I'm in the wrong and that there's no way that I can fix this without hurting one of us._ The flourishing script on the menu jumbles and loses focus for a moment, but I blink rapidly a few times and regain my focus. Almost everything is written in French. At least, I think it's French. It might be Italian…

"I'm so glad that you're here with me. I'm the luckiest man on the planet," Peter says, reaching out and clasping my hand. I spare him a smile, wondering how a break-up speech is supposed to follow a statement that sweet; because as I see it, I don't have any other choice. It's always been Sean; I knew this when he came back and I know it now. "You know," he continues, looking down, "I really felt like we were growing apart for awhile this summer. Now I feel like we're finally in a good place again, and I just can't believe that we've made it through all this. It's like we've finally reached another level." There isn't really anything that I can say in response, so I simply squeeze his hand and look down at my plate. I'm torn between this sudden urge to run out of the restaurant and find Sean as quickly as possible and my desire to do this the right way. I've never broken up with anyone before, unless you count the fight in grade seven with Sean. Considering the results the last time I said something insensitive to a boy, it isn't really any wonder that I'm so afraid of saying the wrong thing now.

"Look, Peter…" I begin, but the waiter comes up and asks for our order before I can finish. Without the slightest bit of hesitation, Peter rattles off two orders in perfectly accented French, smiling a bit as the waiter leaves.

"You were saying?" he encourages, smiling expectantly. Sweetly. Why does this have to be so hard? I glance down at my lap, the rose he presented me with earlier still resting there. The red and purple clash horrendously. They shouldn't, but they do, and I can't turn my attention to anything else until I figure out some way to fix it. "Em?" he asks. He waves a hand in front of my eyes.

"I was just going to say that… Oh, wow. I really don't remember. It must have been one of those brain hiccoughs, you know?" I laugh uneasily, the sound brittle enough to shatter glass. Peter looks at me strangely for a moment and then shakes his head.

"Anyway, I really think that you're going to like what I ordered. No snails or unpleasant surprises; I promise," he assures. I smile again, taking in a deep breath. Doubts are suddenly swirling through my mind. As uncomfortable as I feel, this is a tremendously sweet and romantic gesture. Peter has stuck with me through so much; am I really going to break up with him for some confused feelings? _It's more than that,_ a small voice at the back of my head nags me. _You love Sean. You've loved him for six years._ The waiter appears with two glasses of water. I immediately start drinking, pouncing on the excuse to not talk. Peter starts describing the documentary, getting more and more animated as he goes on. He really loves this, I realize. The smile on his face is genuine; a smile that he's never given to me. That grain of truth gives me the courage to press on.

"Peter, maybe we should talk…" I suggest once there's a break in the conversation. "A lot's been going on the past few months, and I feel like some things have changed. I know that I've changed." I pause to collect my thoughts, giving him a sad smile. "I feel like we're moving in a new direction…" Wonderful. Now I'm making us sound like a ship. To my surprise, he smiles knowingly at me, reaching out and tracing designs on my hand. A faint glimmer touches his eyes. Something indecipherable is clouding his eyes, and I suddenly realize that these feelings I've been harboring aren't so one-sided after all. Thank God.

"I feel exactly the same. Actually, there's something that I've been waiting for the right moment to tell you. I kind of got us a room," Peter tells me, blushing with false embarrassment. "I thought, you know, it's a lot less tacky than prom, and I wanted our first time to be special." I blink stupidly at him for a good thirty seconds. We are so _not_ on the same page.

"Why didn't you talk to me about this first?" My voice is accusing, but I know I have no right to act self righteous. It looks like I'm not the only one with a few bombshells to drop tonight. His forehead creases.

"I didn't really think that I needed to. I thought we were both ready for the next step. Look, Em, if this is about your body issues, you know that I think you're gorgeous." His tone is patronizing, and for a moment I have the overpowering urge to slap him.

"This has nothing to do with anorexia," I say a little too loudly. After the interested onlookers get the hint, I continue more softly. "What gave you the idea we were going to have sex?"

"Don't play stupid. It's not like you're new to all this," he replies. I can feel my face flaming as anger boils in my stomach. _Count to ten, Emma. Count to ten. Count to…_

"What are you talking about?" I ask him quietly.

"I think you know what I'm talking about," Peter answers. I stare at him incredulously for a moment before throwing the cloth napkin clenched in my hand on the table.

"You know, I have spent the better part of our relationship giving you the benefit of the doubt and trying to convince my family and friends to do the same. I can't believe that you would throw my hook-up with Jay back in my face, especially when I let you off the hook so easily with Manny," I rant, throwing my hands up in the air for emphasis. His face drains of all color as he looks at me fearfully. When he speaks, his voice is shaking.

"Manny told you about that?" There's a beat filled with sickening silence as I connect the dots in my head. The avoidance, Manny's venomous remarks about how Peter can't be trusted, his discomfort around her; it all makes perfect sense now. I swallow before getting up.

"I can't believe you. So tell me Peter, did you have to get her drunk first this time? Did you?" My voice is too shrill. No matter how desperately I try to regain my composure I can feel myself falling apart at the seams painfully slowly.

"No. It wasn't even like that! I got drunk at Heather Sinclair's party that day last July that you were at your aunt's, and I called her for a ride and then tried to kiss her before I got out…" I can't take it anymore.

"We're done," I whisper, rushing toward the front of the restaurant. Even though I know that he's right behind me, I picture myself striding outside alone and finding the nearest pay phone so I can call Sean and tell him how sorry I am for everything and that Peter was so not worth the easy letdown I tried to give him, but I'm through with that mess now. Because Sean, rumpled, car loving Sean with his awful timing and perfect kisses, is all that I want right now. All that I've ever wanted.

-0-0-0-

As soon as Sean turned the car off he knew that something was wrong. Emma had just burst out of the restaurant, jaw clenched in an effort to hide her trembling lower lip and glistening eyes. He got out of the car quickly, hanging back when he saw Peter trailing behind her. He wouldn't step in unless she needed him. The closer Emma got the harder it was to restrain himself, though. He suddenly caught sight of Peter reaching out, wrenching her around harshly. She had hardly let out her soft scream before he was running for the other man. In a moment they were on the ground, a mess of fists and blood and the rage he felt slowly taking over him. Techniques from the anger management courses his social worker had forced him into swirled around in his head: stop, breathe, talk out your feelings; they were all worthless now. Nothing in his peripheral vision registered. Then:

"Sean, please." Her voice was so soft he should have missed it. The hand on his elbow was cool as ice, and his natural reflex was to shove it off as hard as he could. For a split second he remembered throwing Emma Nelson's restraining arm off on another occasion, hurting much more than her body when he threw her to the ground. It was a mistake he'd promised himself to never make again. He forced his arm to relax. Peter scrambled out from under him, hurrying towards his car without another word to either of them. Sean tried to control his breathing, closing his eyes when Emma sank down onto the ground next to him, her arm going around his shoulders. As soon as he had regained control he looked up at Emma uncertainly.

"Are you okay?" A tear spilled from the corner of her eye. Without warning she leaned into him, and then his lips were on hers and he was falling, falling, falling so fast and so hard that nothing could stop him. She broke away from him entirely too soon, her eyes meeting his.

"I am now."

-0-0-0-

"You're back! Manny yells. "And you're battered, too," she adds, frowning slightly.

"Why didn't you tell me that he came onto you?" I inquire. I can feel Sean's grip on my hand tighten slightly, and he glances questioningly between us. Even though I don't want to, I let go of his hand and nod slightly. This is some way to start our first evening as a reunited, happy couple, I can't help but thinking, resisting the impulse to pout. After Sean is in the kitchen, Manny lets out the breath she's been holding for well over a minute and presses her fingers to her temples.

"First off, he was drunk. I know firsthand how messed up your head can get after a few too many drinks. Plus, nothing actually happened, and I slapped him when he tried to change that. How was I supposed to know Sean would be coming back to Degrassi still hopelessly in love with you? It seemed like Peter was making you happy, and I didn't want to ruin that for you." It's faulty reasoning at its worst, and I don't hesitate to tell her so.

"I wouldn't have gone off and thrown up all of my food, you know," I continue. Well… she sees the flicker in my eyes but is kind enough to ignore it. "Thank you for caring enough about my well-being to cover for him," I say softly.

"So, are you and Sean, like, a thing now?" She asks me in a stage whisper. I laugh and close the distance between us with a hug.

"I think we're definitely a thing; a very big thing," I say, surprised at the unstoppable smile it brings to my face.

Because we are finally a couple. We can go out alone without having to worry about the rumor mill catching wind of it, we can do the senior prom cliché and enjoy every cheesy minute of it, and I can finally hold his hand and let him brush my hair away without feeling guilty. Which reminds me… "I'll be back," I tell Manny, running into the kitchen. I'm struck by just how handsome he is, leaning up against the counter.

"Miss me?" he inquires teasingly. And because in the past five minutes ninety-nine percent of my thoughts have been about him and because it's true for me in so many more ways than he means, I reach out and trace his cheekbone with my fingers, letting them linger there.

"An indecent amount," I remark honestly, smiling into the kiss he places on my lips. His arms encircle my waist and I lean into him, finally letting myself go like I've wanted to since the moment I opened up the door to him two weeks ago.

"Let's dance," he murmurs into my ear, leading off in a slow, gentle waltz that seems built for us. There's no song, I almost say, and at any moment Spike and Snake are going to come down the stairs and ask us what the hell is going on. But it's so natural and I fit into him so well and I've missed dancing with him so much more than I ever realized, so I follow his lead and rest my head against his shoulder.

I still have all of the small things that he says with his gestures memorized, I realize. In that transcendental way that you discover things that you've known for ages, I realize that Sean Cameron loves me just as much as I love him. Suddenly all of the memories that have haunted me nonstop these past few weeks disappear, and I feel gentle excitement curling in my stomach in anticipation of all of the new memories that we'll get to make: the day when we'll know each other so completely that we won't just love each other, we'll be in love with each other, and the first time that we'll whisper "I love you's", and the first time that we'll fall asleep in each others' arms. As I lean into him, reaching up to run my fingers through his curls gently as his hands smooth across the small of my back, I realize that the future doesn't seem so dark anymore now that he's in it.

**-0-0-0-**

They must have been in that kitchen dancing for hours. When they finally sat down at the kitchen table, holding hands as Sean ran his fingers across her knuckles, he cleared his throat nervously. "I want to do this the right way. I want to get to know you again, all of those little things that have changed over the years," he told her earnestly, looking into her eyes.

"I want the same thing. I just… I can't believe that this is finally happening," she said, wonder in her voice. And as she looked at him, her eyes lighting up her whole being with a smile that didn't require the rest of her face, Sean knew that they would be ok.

**Thanks To:**

_LuLuOceanEyes:_ I'm so sorry to keep you waiting this long! I hope this update is worth the wait for you. 

_Urharmony:_ This chapter should make you happy.  And yes, I know, it's crazy the things we do because we're scared of being alone. It was torture for me to write them for so long without being together, and even now I feel like maybe I should have waited a little longer. After working on this story for a good four months, though, my patience had pretty much expired.

_Samitiny:_ Thanks once again! You have no idea how encouraging it is to hear kind words when you're in the middle of a "my writing sucks, I need to delete all the files on my computer and forget about ever picking up a pen again" phase. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.

_BeautifulxDreamer:_ I know. Doesn't Peter just make your skin crawl? "and it is not with that awful Peter" made me laugh so hard. I'm very glad that I've made Emma communicate that point to you guys, even if she hadn't quite realized it herself until this chapter.

_Oua:_ Yes, I do tend to feel bad for Sean in this fanfic, especially given some arcs that I have planned for the future that may or may not be worked in… but in this chapter, being abandoned in the kitchen turned out to be helpful.

_MHxxPAPER DOLL:_ Do you know, I almost used your idea? I seriously toyed around with it when I was in the middle of my terrible month of writer's block for this story, and I was going to dedicate the chapter to you if it worked out. Alas, it did not, but I still smile every time I read that review. Thanks for the kind words.

_Stormsandsins:_ Yay! A new reviewer! And thanks for the shout out to not being cliché. It's so incredibly hard to try and write something that escapes falling in with all of the other fanfics out there, and sometimes it's incredibly hard to trust the characters. When I first got the idea of Sean fighting Peter this chapter I kept fighting it off, convinced it would be way too contrived and corny and just all levels of awful. It ended up connecting to the past and leading into the Eman reunion in a way that I thought seemed true to the story, though, so I went with it anyway. I hope you continue to read and enjoy my story. And really, isn't Semma sexual tension just the greatest?

_Okay, guys, whenever you get the chance (which may not be for the next few weeks due to the holidays, I understand completely), I really need you to respond to this poll. _

_In this story, do you want Craig to end up with Ellie or Manny?_

_Manny! The two are true love, and separating them would be story suicide._

_Umm, I don't read this story for your stupid and rambling side plots; I read it for the Sean and Emma stuff. I couldn't care less; I'll probably just end up skimming over any scenes written to this end anyway._

_Ellie and Craig have a real, deep connection, and it would create lots of edible awkwardness between Sean, Emma, Craig, and Ellie in future chapters before Sean moves out of the Jeremiah household. Need we say more? _

_Leave Craig out in the cold. It's about time he learned what it was like to be without any women waiting in the wings._


	8. Through Glass

**A/N:** Yes, in two minutes you'll all be thinking "you wait over a month to post an update, and when you do it's _this_ piece of crap?!" I know, I know, it's all over the place, some stuff completely fluffy, some completely pointless, and then some weird random melodrama thrown in. My only excuse it that I had been trying to wait until I felt like I could give you guys a chapter that you deserved and working through writer's block, and then I just said "screw that," and this was the product. No, I can't guarantee another update soon (although I can guarantee an update period). I can guarantee that I have fallen in love with writing these characters and this ship all over again. And on a side note – please visit my profile if you have the time. I have some interesting info about pending projects there.

"I feel like I need to ask someone to pinch me," I confess to Manny, brushing my hair in the mirror. It's only a few strokes followed by ten minutes of staring into space, the same as I've been doing for the past forty-five minutes; it still hasn't grown old. "It's like we understand each other so completely because we have so much history, but at the same time I feel like I'm getting to know him all over again." My best friend's smirk and suggestive glance is enough for her to say "getting to know each other again, indeed."

"You're just lucky that I gave you two warning before Spike and Snake interrupted that little makeout session of yours. I mean, honestly, Em; Jack could've walked in. That would have been some introduction to his future brother-in-law," she complains. Even the obligatory eye roll I send in her direction can't put a damper on my mood.

"I miss him already. How silly is that?" I confide conspiratorially. Manny smiles and jumps on her bed, beckoning to me to join her. As soon as I settle in next to her, she starts braiding my hair the same way we always do when one of us is talking about boys.

"You two are like this inseparable entity when you're together. It's nausea-inducing. I mean, did you even _hear _the two of you explaining your reunion to Spike and Snake? Finishing each other's sentences, sharing these intense, happy and teary looks… I would be incredibly jealous if I wasn't so relieved that it _finally_ happened," she groans. I bat at her blindly.

"Did you see my mom's face? It was like she couldn't even take it in," I say, recalling mom's expression upon walking into the kitchen to see me and Sean leaning against the counter, arms around each other and me leaning into his chest.

"Well, sorry if the rest of us can't keep up with the ever-changing state of the Sean and Emma saga," she teases me, and when I twist around and get a view of her dimples I know that she's really happy for me, regardless of how much flack she's giving me.

"Do you think it was a mistake to not just come right out with the L word?" I ask her nervously. It's a thought that's been plaguing me ever since Sean left; even now that I have the security of knowing that I won't be running out of time to tell him anywhere in the foreseeable future, I still feel like the words are poised to jump off my tongue as soon as I see him again.

"He knows," Manny assures me softly, brushing out the loose braid she started moments ago. "The same way I knew before Craig even opened his mouth when we were saying goodbye. There isn't ever a perfect moment to say it, but you and Sean will find your own special moment."

After we're both back in bed, I think of the first time I realized I loved Sean. It had been that day so long ago on the beach at my parents' reception, dancing and kissing and too shy to look into each others' eyes. That was probably my decision, I realize now. I had been scared senseless, realizing that the feelings I harbored for that boy were more than just an innocent crush that would fade as soon as the next Craig Manning or Chris Sharpe came along. A better part of an evening had been spent trying to convince myself that it was just physical attraction; Sean and I were too young for anything remotely close to love. The knowledge had bloomed somewhere deep inside me regardless.

It's amazing that only now have I finally admitted the truth to myself.

-0-0-0-

At about three AM my cell phone rings, and when I lean over and see the caller ID I smile slightly. "Hey, you," I whisper, trying not to wake Manny up.

"Sorry to call so late. I just couldn't get to sleep," he says, and I smile.

"I know the feeling. I was wondering whether or not to call you, but I figured that between the job interview you're getting ready for tomorrow and that calculus quiz, we both needed all the sleep we could get."

"I guess that's not happening anytime soon," he says, and I laugh softly. "I wish I could be there with you," he says after a moment. The idea of Sean lying down next to me, arms encircling my waist and lips touching my neck, is so strong that a shiver goes down my spine. I've missed the unique cocktail of thrill, desire, and comfort that comes from physical contact with Sean.

"You could always come over and sneak in through the basement window. It would be like old times," I suggest, my voice teasing.

"Nah. Just hearing your voice is good enough," Sean says. I can feel myself slowly melting into a puddle.

"Feeling sleepy yet?" I say, hoping that he says no so that I have any excuse to hear his voice. My eyelids give in to gravity despite my best intentions. I let loose a loud yawn.

"Well, I'd say from that yawn you're more than ready to go to bed," he remarks.

"Don't hang up," I plead quickly.

"Okay," he says, and I hear the steady inhale and exhale of his breath.

"Do you still like double cheese pizza?" I ask after awhile, my voice soft with exhaustion. I can almost hear him smiling through the phone.

"I practically breathe it. What about you? Are you still completely crazy about the food court's veggie burgers?" I laugh lightly. Come to think of it, I haven't had one of those in the longest time… they always remind me of Sean.

"Nah. I think that being thrown out after this valiant guy I was there with dug through the trash to find the wallet that was in my purse kind of ruined the experience for me. I still adore Snake's vegetarian lasagna, though. I think it's actually gotten better over the years, if that's even possible." I rationalize all of the reasons why this slight lie doesn't quite count; after all, back when I appreciated food this would have been true. We're quiet for a while, and then Sean's gravelly whisper tickles my ear.

"I think I'm going to go to sleep now. Do you mind if I stay on the line?" he asks.

"Mmm," I mutter, drifting into dreams of my own. When I wake up in the morning, my battery is dead and there's a red rectangular indentation on my right cheek. I touch it gently with my hand, smiling as if it proves something. Maybe, I think, it does.

-0-0-0-

"Crap! I can't believe I forgot." Sean looks at me quizzically as I lean my head onto the dashboard of his car and bring my hands up to my temples. "I have therapy after school today. My counselor has some thing on Thursday with her son or something, and she didn't have any other appointments open… and I have no way to get there and a huge test I have to study for tonight," I explain, stopping long enough to let out a groan.

"Oh, that's right. I thought I saw a post-it note on the bathroom mirror this morning, but I figured that it wasn't important and threw it in the trash… sorry," Manny says from the backseat. I turn around and we have a five second conversation with our eyes before she breaks the silence to say, "Come on, Em! You leave those up to remind yourself that we need new toothpaste! I didn't have all the reason in the world to believe that it might actually be something you needed to remember." She does have a point.

"Why don't I drive you?" Sean asks. I wonder if he even heard the word therapy come out of my mouth. Sean playing the emotionally unavailable boyfriend is nothing new; dealing with this change in his character has blood rushing through my ears for some reason.

"Well, that's fine," I say slowly, "but you know, I can just walk. It's really not that big of a deal. Didn't you say something about setting up an interview with the mechanic Joey employs today after school?" Joey's "previously loved" cars aren't always in tip-top condition, so he has to get someone to look them over and fix anything seriously wrong; conveniently enough, Sean knows cars better than I know the number of calories in a serving of key lime yogurt.

"My interview isn't until four. Besides, I want to be there for you," he tells me, and I smile nervously. If he wants to "be there" for me, this would be the logical place to start.

"Okay," I agree, and he grins at me obliviously. When his hand reaches out to cover my own, I take the opportunity to lean my head against his shoulder and tune out the voices in the back of my head telling me what an awful idea this is. We have just started dating again, after all. This doesn't feel like the truth, though, and I know that if there is anyone I'd want to see me after a particularly taxing hour of self evaluation, it would be Sean. He isn't going anywhere this time. He's told me this. "Okay," I repeat, cementing it as fact in my head. A new, infantile faith washes over me. Whether I believe Sean's words, I believe that he believes them. That's more than enough for now.

-0-0-0-

"Emma, will you please just talk to me?" Peter pleads, running to keep up with my long gait.

"There isn't all that much left to say, is there?" I retort. My voice is terse, and I don't bother shifting my eyes to take him in. "You took advantage of my best friend while you were still dating me and then relied on Manny's overprotective streak to cover your own hide. Mix that in with the fact that five seconds before you assumed that I wanted to have sex with you I was about to tell you that I'm in love with Sean—"

"Wait, since when are you in love with Sean?" Peter says. "Are you sure this isn't some anorexic thing where you're trying to manipulate everyone in the situation?"

"That would be funny if it wasn't so unfair and uncalled for," I reply testily before ducking into Snake's classroom for MI. Unfortunately, I seem to have forgotten the fact that Peter is right behind me.

"Emma, I'm sorry. That's not how I meant it. It's just, this has kind of all hit me really suddenly, you know? You break up with me, you're in love with Sean, Manny is mad at me…" When I look at him, the shiner on his eye ruins the effect of his self-pitying expression and makes it seem more staged than genuine.

"Are you actually complaining about girl problems with my best friend? Besides, I'd hardly classify Manny being mad at you as a recent development."

"What is spineless, changes colors at the drop of a hat, and preys on the defenseless? No, it's not an octopus, ladies and gentlemen; it's our very own Peter Stone!" Manny exclaims breezily, entering the classroom and flashing me a smile. We link arms and walk to our seats. His gaze, irritated and sad and just a bit desperate, follows us across the classroom. "You really need to learn to stop harassing people of superior intellect," she comments innocently. Sean slips into his seat two rows away from us just as the bell rings.

"Still making it by the skin of your teeth, I see. Some things never change," Snake states, grinning easily. There's a new spring to his step this morning. I'm tempted to catch his eye and let him see that he's not the only one with a weight lifted from his shoulders, but he's already busied with roll call and a few of Heather Sinclair's note passing extensions. "Okay, today we're going to be talking about…"

"So with all of the drama last night, I didn't get a chance to ask you how your call with Craig went," I whisper, glancing at her eagerly. To my disappointment, she just shrugs her shoulders sadly.

"There's not a whole lot to say. He only had three minutes to talk before heading off for a sound check. He wasn't himself; and Emma, I think… I think I heard a girl's voice in the background?" She phrases it as an inquiry, as if she's hoping that I'll disclaim the idea or say something to make her doubt its validity.

"Do you really think that Craig would cheat on you, after all that the two of you have been through together?" I ask her in a slightly bored tone of voice. I see Sean, frowning as he focuses intensely on Snake's lesson, and wonder again how rare it is that Manny and I are actually in happy relationships at the same time. It's as good an excuse as any for her sudden wariness.

"He cheated on Ashley with me," she says quietly, and the old guilt and doubt in her voice make me want to reach over and hug her right here and now.

"That was years ago," I assure her, touching her arm ever so slightly when I'm sure that Snake's attention is focused elsewhere. "This is the same boy who said that you're it for him, Manny. Everything will work itself out." She still doesn't seem completely convinced, but the frown lines on her face smooth out gradually, and by the end of the period she's smiling at my stupid joke about cafeteria food.

**-0-0-0-**

"Okay, so you just take a right and drive past the hospital, and there's this set of buildings that her office is tucked away in, and…" Emma babbled on, completely unaware of Sean's stifled laughter. Her forehead was creased slightly, and her eyes had taken on the tragic, deer-in-the-headlights look they only got when she was wound too tightly.

"Is this what you put Spike through every Thursday?" he asked. She punched his shoulder, harder than either of them had expected. A small gasp worked its way out of her mouth.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I just, I get really nervous when I talk to people about therapy, and obviously this is even more drastic than that and I just… I feel like I'm scaring you away without giving you a chance to see the positives in this situation," she confessed. "Oh, this is the parking lot that you're supposed to turn into." After Sean had brought the car to a halt, he turned to Emma and kissed her soundly.

"Being with you is more than enough incentive to stay. Besides, I had to do the whole therapy thing when I first came to live with Tracker, remember? They tried to teach me anger management." He was tempted to add 'and look how that worked out,' but saying as much might have made the moment more awkward for his already frazzled girlfriend. Her long, smooth fingers touched his bare arm. Apparently she had picked up her old habit of reading his mind effortlessly.

"It did, Sean. I see a difference in you," Emma replied honestly. On an impulse he leaned forward to kiss her again, more slowly this time. As they made their way toward the building, he remembered that Emma's encouragement, never given unless she genuinely meant what she said, was one of the things that he had missed so much about her.

Once in the waiting room, Emma walked up to the front desk and wrote her name down on a sheet of paper, greeting the secretary in hushed tones and smiling before coming back over to him. "I should have told you to bring your homework in. We'll be here awhile." Sean studied her as she flipped lazily through a magazine. The folds of denim at the knee of her jean touched against his, and the insignificant contact made it hard to form coherent thoughts. He reached over and gently massaged the back of her neck. Her eyes closed and he felt her breathing even out and deepen slightly as the corners of her mouth turned up in a faint grin. The door hinges creaked.

"Emma, I'm ready for you." She jumped to attention at the voice. Sean studied the woman intently, failing to see whatever was making Emma tense so much.

"I'll be back in a little bit, okay?" she said, kissing his cheek before standing up and making her way over to the door. As her smooth, curved lips brushed again his cheek, he felt the urge to reach out and hold her by him for just a moment more. The feeling passed, and he smiled at her retreating figure until she disappeared from view.

**-0-0-0-**

I'm still trying to recover from having my therapist walk in on my small, intimate moment with Sean when we sit down in her office. "So how are you, Emma?" Her smile is warm, and it helps me forget the blush still burning my face.

"I'm doing great, actually. You, uh, probably noticed the guy out there. That's my boyfriend Sean."

"You mentioned him last week," she recalls, leaning forward. "Did something happen with Peter?" I consider my next words carefully, not wanting to be trapped by an unintentional comment or two. I finally settle on a happy medium.

"Peter wanted something that I couldn't give him, and he had been treating Manny badly… the whole situation just kind of spiraled out of control. And Sean was there for me. My knight in shining armor," I joke. Her eyes give away the smile her mouth tries to conceal. "I know that you're probably going to tell me that it's a recipe for codependency and give me a multitude of reasons why this won't work out…"

"Emma," she stops me gently. "Don't be so quick to put your guard up. People can surprise you. Like Sean did," she supplies. Emotion fills my eyes and spills over in the form of tears I hadn't realized I needed to shed, and I nod my head.

"Yeah, like Sean."

-0-0-0-

When I come back out to the waiting room, Sean is tapping his foot against the bland grey carpeting and reading a pamphlet about bipolar disorder, his eyebrows practically reaching his hairline. "Don't tell me that you're thinking of joining the mental disorder club?" I tease. "Between Craig and me, our little circle has just about as many crazies as it can take."

"The only thing I'm crazy about is you," he replies. Warm blue eyes meet mine. I help him to a standing position, our hands clasping before he leans in and kisses me gently. Before the kiss can deepen I pull a breath's width away, clearing my throat and smiling at him mischievously.

"We should probably move this to a less public area." His eyes widen for a moment and then he nods quickly, taking my hand and practically dragging me out of the office and to the elevator. As soon as the doors shut behind us we crash together. It's with wonder that I realize that his chest, firm beneath my fingers, and his lips, swollen with kissing, feel like extremities of my own body. The heat curling in my belly becomes more insistent when his hands grip the back of my waist, slowly moving under my shirt. The perfect moment is broken by the elevator's imperfect timing. The loudest of chimes give a resounding "ding" as the doors open up to a familiar redhead. I expect Sean to jump away from me like he's been burned, but instead he stays frozen in mid motion, apparently as unsure of what to do as I am.

"Hey, Ellie," he finally chokes out. "Long time no see." After she recovers from giving us a stare withering enough to crack a diamond, she nods and scuffles her feet miserably.

"Do you have an internship here?" I finally venture. It seems like a fairly safe question; the safest that could be asked in such a situation.

"No, I have a counseling appointment that I'm actually late for." Even if I can't sympathize with the shorter girl, I can empathize with her need to escape the situation and gently tug on Sean's arm. Thankfully it's enough to snap him out of his daze, and the two of us walk quickly out of the elevator. Before the doors can close and we're a safe distance away, I notice the discomfort in Sean's eyes.

"Go, talk to her," I urge. Even from this vantage point it's obvious that they didn't leave things on the best of terms, and unresolved relationships usually don't bode well for current ones. Rosa would be so proud that I'm learning from past mistakes (although, reflecting on this, not resolving things with Sean might have been the best mistake I ever made).

"Are you sure?" he asks.

"Just come back to me," I say, proud of the false confidence in my mind.

"You know I'll always come back to you," he answers, kissing me swiftly before going for the stairs. I start adding up figures in my head, trying to figure out how many minutes of impatience I should take with a grain of salt before getting worried. It's rather anticlimactic how five minutes pass like, well, five minutes. As he reappears, the remnants of an embarrassed grin on his face, I'm almost afraid to ask how things went.

"So…" I trail off. He wraps his arm around my waist, leading me towards the exit in a way that only he could pull off without coming across as possessive.

"Well, we'll certainly never be best friends, but we should be able to avoid any more awkward public run-ins," he answers decisively, looking thoughtful for a moment. "It's funny how easy things have been today. It's like everything is settling into place for us."

"It took long enough," I note, running a hand over the stubble on his chin. I'm unsure of whether I'm referring to his talk with Ellie, the statement he made seconds ago, or something unknown. When we finally get to the car, I lean back against the headrest and close my eyes at the sudden onslaught of exhaustion that nearly overtakes me. "Okay, come back to my place so that I can iron out your dress shirt, and then you can drive to your interview." Listing these things off makes me feel a little bit better, a little more in control. "If you want to, you can come over after. I'm sure my mom wouldn't mind setting another place for dinner."

"Oh, actually… I kind of promised Angie that I would play dress-up with her." A flush captures his cheeks, and I smile faintly.

"She may have a little trouble getting her pink tutu over your hips," I consider, laughing at the mortified expression on his face. "Relax. She'll probably just want to parade in front of you and hear how beautiful she is. I swear, if she doesn't settle for cheerleading captain that girl is going to be a supermodel." I'm surprised by how easily we fall into this familiar rhythm. The only other person that I love making idle chatter with is Manny, and most of the time the two of us only do it to avoid silence. With the exception of my cause platforms, I've never been much of a talker. The stray musing somehow pulls at a deeply hidden fear and makes me stop talking completely, hardly even hearing Sean's words.

"Em? You there?" I have no idea how long it takes for him to get my attention, but the slight worry in his eyes is enough to alarm me. I usher him inside, giving him the expected pep talk as I set to work on the lone button-down shirt in his wardrobe. I know it's unfair of me to take advantage of his nerves and go through the motions, but a part of me that I can't seem to fight has already made up my mind for me.

-0-0-0-

_You fat cow._ Hot tears of anger mar the piece of notebook paper, and when I can't bear to look at it in disgust anymore I crumple it up and throw it to the other side of the room. So many calories. So many servings. So much fat. And those are just the things I can remember eating over the last few days. The wheels in my head spin furiously. If I wake up early enough tomorrow morning, I'll probably be able to jog to Degrassi and then double back and go to the park. I can say that I brought breakfast with me and needed some air to clear my head; Manny will be too irritated at not getting my expected wake-up call to notice the difference, and Spike will already be gone with Jack. Two miles is next to nothing with all that I've been eating, but it's a start at least. For now, all I can do is try to contain the damage. After a quick jog up the basement stairs and a furtive glance out of the door, I make my way back down to the bathroom and shut the door tightly behind me.

**Thanks To:**

_Any and all ghost readers. Over the past few exhausting days, I have gained new respect for you, and believe me, reviews or no, you guys rock! _

_Samitiny – _Dagnabbit, I was trying to put together a special one-shot Cranny present for you over the holidays, but it fell apart.  Anyway, I'm not sure about Craig's romantic future at this point – I'm not even sure that he'll be reappearing. Knowing him and knowing me, though, he'll definitely pop up.

_Danyu –_ Thanks for the kind words . Yes, despite WIFLTBAG, Craig will always be my favorite manwhore. It's just too bad the writers had to go and make him a cokehead.

_Degrassiseanemma –_ I love your SN. And thanks for the kind words. 

_MHxxPAPERDOLL_

_BeautifulxDreamer –_ Your review made my Christmas. And you kick , too! ;)

_Lilangel81_

_Stormsandsins – _Have I mentioned that I love that you give me more than one or two line reviews? 'Cause I do. And knowing my tastes, I probably would like snails if I actually tried them. It's just a matter of if I ever psyche myself up enough to do it. Yeah, Craig does deserve what's coming to him. By trying to satisfy both Cranny and Crellie fans in WIFLTBAG, the writers just made Craig look like a huge, drug addicted ass. Too bad Jake Epstein isn't a regular anymore, and Craig won't be worming his way back into my good graces. 


	9. Strong Enough

**A/N:** Here is a long-awaited update, clocking in at ten pages with plenty of big paragraphs and all the Semma fluff you can take (along with a good bunch you can't). This chapter and the next are really two parts, although they work better and are more read-able uploaded separately. That's why you'll probably see two updates around the same time. Please review if you're still here! Enjoy.

I shouldn't be trying so hard. Normal is staring at my food in distaste and moving it around my plate for five minutes in between bites, not shoveling it down and eyeing everyone else afterward for their reactions. Thankfully, no one else is paying attention to me tonight. "So basically, my agent said that while it's kind of a long shot, if I do well with the reading than the casting director could remember my name when she's working on future films. I know that it's Vancouver and that I'd miss a few days of school, but it's such a great opportunity. What do you think?" Manny asks casually. It's obvious that she wants a 'yes' much more than she's showing, and I can tell that Spike is taking this into consideration.

"Manny," she says slowly, "I'd love for you to be able to have this opportunity. The problem is, I can't get the work time off and we don't have money for a hotel."

Manny doesn't blink before saying, "Well, I'd be staying with Craig. When I told him about it he practically begged me to come and visit him." It takes a huge effort not to choke on the dry asparagus stalk halfway down my throat. At the look that Spike and Snake share she adds quickly, "You guys know that Craig would take care of me. Besides, Christine, you know I'm covered; you were the one to pick up my birth control prescription yesterday." I snap my head in her direction and raise my eyebrows. With a boyfriend hours away and a tight knit social circle at school, why does Manny need to be on the pill? And why haven't I heard about this before? Snake must be thinking the same thing; he busies himself with studying his fork.

"I'm not sure that it's safe," mom says doubtfully, "for you to take the train by yourself. I know that you're independent, Manny, but you have to understand that I'd tell Emma exactly the same thing." Her face falls and she nods slowly, looking down at her plate. I can feel the familiar pit in my stomach at that look, and before I know it I'm off an running with a suggestion. I think fast and talk even more quickly.

"What if I went with Manny? Manny still has a lot of money left over from the movie and I have tons of baby-sitting cash lying around. I'm guessing that Craig has a couch in his apartment. There's safety in numbers, right?" Manny sends me a look filled with so much gratitude I'm surprised she hasn't burst.

"There's still the matter of school," Snake pipes up, giving us both careful looks. "Emma, I know how hard you've been working to bring up your GPA this year, and Manny, there is the matter of that anatomy and physiology grade…" he trails off. Manny's gulp is almost audible.

"Look, I can do the school work just as easily in Vancouver, and you know that most of the teachers are just going to be making us do busy work this close to midterms anyway," I reason, holding my breath as I glance between my parents. Mom sets her fork down on her napkin and lets out a heavy sigh.

"I'm going to want to speak to Craig." Our house guest doesn't bother trying to conceal her squeal.

-0-0-0-

"Perfect!" I announce, drawing a decidedly large circle around the boxed-in add. "Utilities are included in the rent, which your budget can actually accommodate; the dealership and school are both nearby… I'm sure it's not exactly heaven on earth, but it sounds like a really good deal." I glance at his face to gauge his reaction. A broad smile spreads his lips upward.

"You're a miracle worker, Em. I've been looking for a place for over a week, and in less than thirty minutes you've found something perfect." His thumb strokes the back of my hand as he leans forward to study the classified add. I can't help the blush that touches my cheeks.

"Not so quick; for all we know, the place could be infested with termites."

"Still, it's a start," he says, his eyes catching mine. My lips turn up automatically at the gesture and he casually wraps his arm around my waist. "So, do you think you can come check this place out with me tomorrow? I have a feeling that you'd be a lot more practical than I would."

"Of course I'll come. Just remember, once you invite me in you may not ever be able to get me out," I warn, nudging him gently with my shoulder. "I'll be coming over to escape Jack's temper tantrums and vacuuming your living room, complaining about dirty clothes all over the bedroom…"

"I didn't realize you'd be getting anywhere near the bedroom," he says, brushing the hair away from my face. I smile uncomfortably and feel that ever-present blush coming on again. The thought ignites a familiar heat in my belly, spreading out until every inch of my body is humming with the need to feel him against me. His thumb gently traces my bottom lip and I shiver involuntarily. For one perfect moment I'm drowning in his gaze. Just as we're leaning into each other Manny walks through the door, making a show of holding her hand over her eyes and clearing her throat.

"Please spare me the graphic visuals," she complains, rolling her eyes good-naturedly.

"I really can't wait until you get that apartment," I confide.

"Neither can I." His smile is quick and easy, and as we touch foreheads I let my mind wander once again. This is the third time in the last few days that someone's walked in on… what? It's not as if as soon as we touch I'm going to jump his bones. That seems to be the common assumption among my family, though. I guess it's just because the whole experience is new to my parents. Peter and I acted more like brother and sister than boyfriend and girlfriend around them; he knew enough to keep up a charming front to try to impress my parents. Chris was lucky to get to first base when we were alone. With Sean, there are no games or pretenses. Snake especially seems frightened by this for some reason. As soon as Manny's out of earshot Sean tilts his head toward my cheek. "You're so tense," he whispers into my ear. Goosebumps fan along the exposed stretch of my neck.

"It feels like we don't even have room to breathe with all of these people around. My mom, my dad, Manny--"

"—Jack," he adds, chuckling at the memory of my half brother walking in on a heated make-out session in the basement. "Let's hope he doesn't decide to try out that 'special hug' technique on any of the girls in his day care," Sean says with a snicker. I punch him in the shoulder lightly.

"Well you didn't exactly seem to be crawling with explanations. And if Jack isn't scarred from walking in on Manny and Craig for a year and a half, I very much doubt that we'll do any lasting damage." And because I'm tilting my head and smiling at him in a way that gives him permission and he understands this, we don't need to say anything else.

-0-0-0-

A brutal scream rips its way through my throat. For a moment my eyes don't register concrete objects, only the blurred colors of surroundings that feel unfamiliar. It's too bright, too bright, too bright – My hands clench the sheets drenched in sweat and draped across my bed. It takes a moment to realize that I'm in the basement, sitting up, and that I'm fine. _Fine fine fine fine fine._ It was just a nightmare.

The floorboards pound and in a moment Snake is cradling me in his arms as if I'm a two-year-old, asking me what's wrong. "I was just having a bad dream… I'm really sorry," I admit, the rational part of me slowly and painfully overriding my panic. His eyes cloud.

"I haven't heard you scream like that since…" I'm not sure whether he's scared to finish the sentence or simply can't remember.

The first memory I have of the nightmare is from kindergarten: I dreamed that I was in the backyard playing barefoot with Manny, picking dandelions to string into a wreath. Suddenly my heel thrust into a jagged piece of glass lying on the ground. Instead of draining a thin red bubble and clotting, my foot bled and bled and bled. Thin trails on the ground were soaked blood red. Manny had disappeared, and my foot kept bleeding until I woke up sobbing in my mother's arms.

After Snake was diagnosed, it came back. I was strapped down to an operating table in a sterile room, a doctor looming over me and a malignant tumor growing in my belly. Rivers of blood ran down my exposed calves, and the pain in my stomach increased with each new drop. I had the dream four more times before Spike suggested a therapist. In my typical stubborn fashion, I refused to see anyone or to mention any details of the nightmare.

Something had gone wrong by the third incarnation of the dream. I would stare calmly down at my chest as blood soaked through and Toby and Rick looked on in horror. It wasn't until sixth months later that I remembered a hand that had been clinging to mine throughout. I had sworn to myself not to take Sean's hands for granted if I ever got the chance to hold them again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Snake's gentle question snaps me back to the present and I shake my head slowly. There's no way that anyone is ever going to drag this out of me. Not Snake, not Manny, not Rosa… not even Sean.

"I'll be fine," I assure him, ignoring the sharp hunger pang that hits my stomach.

-0-0-0-

"You weren't exaggerating when you said that it wasn't heaven on earth," Sean remarks, sliding a finger over the paneled wall and bringing up a suspiciously dark and squishy substance. I glance around at the floor nervously.

"Sean, I think that this place might have mice." He hesitates for a moment before smiling weakly.

"I guess that means that I'll be investing in a few traps, then?" The idea makes my nausea even more severe. I force myself to move past the thought and look around objectively, logically: it really isn't that bad, mice and dust aside.

"Well, you'll want to add some Raid and a variety of cleaning products to your shopping list, but with a pushed-up spring cleaning date and some personal touches, it probably won't be that bad as long as you're okay with being next door to a single mom and a baby. No late-night parties and drinking binges with Jay," I muse, grinning and raising my eyebrows. Sean's jaw tightens at the mention of Jay and an awkward silence falls over the apartment. "Look, I know that you're still really mad at him, but when you left, he was your best friend and I wasn't even with you."

"Exactly," he says, eyes flashing. "He went after you when you were going through hell, when he _knew_ how special you were to me, and he didn't even bother to tell me after I got back. I had to hear it from you the first time that we'd talked in ages." It hurts me seeing him like this. As much as I despise Jay, I know that Sean only gets this angry over something when he still cares about the other person, and if Jay Hogart is going to take that wounded edge out of his eyes then I'm more than willing to put up with him.

"That won't ever be a decision that I'm proud of, but it's one that I made just as much as Jay did." The look in his eyes tells me that I've cut him even more with these words. _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ I chide myself. Before he can reply I grab one of his hands and place it between both of mine, smiling softly and shaking my head. "Look, just forget that I said anything. I never meant to make you angry. It's your business what you do with Jay." His eyes soften immediately, but I've already jumped from calculating his rent fees to calculating the calories in the sandwich I ate for lunch.

**-0-0-0-**

"What is _wrong_ with you, Em? You've been floating through classes like you can't wait to get home, and once you get here you're either with Sean or you're staring into space," Manny complained, her forehead crinkled in irritation. She groaned inwardly about encouraging the stress marks at the corners of her mouth, certain that Emma would hear what she wasn't telling her: _I'm worried about you_. Manuella wasn't one to beat around the bush, but accusing Emma of purging probably wouldn't have gone over too well, in light of past experiences. Still… lately Emma's smile had seemed a little too perfect. A few too many blond hairs had been stuck in her hairbrush the last few mornings, and even though she hoped it was nothing more than a few bad knots, it paid to be safe. Especially when the girl in question was Emma.

"You know how I get around the middle of the year, Manny. Pretty soon there's going to be Christmas shopping and midterms and Snake's gay brother wreaking havoc with the extended family dynamic... it's just a little hard to focus on anything." Her words were convincing enough. Her eyes, though… Manny shook the thought off, realizing that in the dim lighting of the basement she couldn't exactly scrutinize the shiny patch on her best friend's pupil.

"Oh, I know. This year has just been one nightmare after another… did I tell you that I called Craig again last night? He was acting so weird; all jittery and hyper." She shrugged her shoulders and gave Manny an apologetic look. Advice-spouting Emma was the one part of her personality that never changed, and Manny had grown to love it with a passion (even though she hardly ever liked what Emma had to say in those moments).

"Maybe it's just stage fright? That tends to have crazy effects on peoples' nerves," Emma suggested.

"Yeah, maybe," she said, not paying much attention to the words. She traced designs on the edge of her comforter and nodded distractedly at the small, spiral-bound journal on Emma's bedside table. "So, I noticed that you'd started keeping a journal? When did that happen?" Manny smiled at the casual edge to her voice and congratulated herself. But Emma played along, throwing her hands to the ceiling and shaking her head.

"My therapist apparently thinks that we don't fit enough analysis of my psyche into one hour a week, so now I'm supposed to start using lots of descriptive words and pouring my feelings out on paper. Surprisingly, a lot harder than it sounds." Manny almost believed her, but at the last minute she looked up. For the first time in their fourteen-year-old friendship, she regretted being able to read the taller girl's eyes so well. _Please don't open my notebook. Please don't find my dirty little secret. _Concern darkened Emma's face at the sight of Manny's tears.

"I went to see Ms. Sulvey a few times after I had my abortion… she wanted me to do the same thing," Manny told her. "It's… not easy trying to make sense of something that senseless. You just end up blaming yourself or other people and asking a bunch of 'what if?' questions that don't have any answers." The memory brought a fresh sting to her eyes, and between thoughts of the baby she'd never had and the best friend who was disappearing before her eyes, she found it impossible to quell her tears.

"Oh, Manny," Emma said, and in an instant her arms had wrapped around her. It was a bitter irony, Manny thought, that Emma was trying to stop the very tears she was causing.

**-0-0-0-**

I cough slightly as the unmistakable smell of exhaust invades my senses. Harry looks up from his post behind the desk and shoots me a curious look. "Sean isn't here today, Emma." I smile nervously.

"I know. I was actually wondering if Jay Hogart was here?" I ask, gripping my purse strap tightly. He nods, motioning to the other end of the garage. "Okay, thanks." I hear the heavy metal coming from his headphones before I see two jumpsuit-clad legs sticking out from the underbelly of a red '96 Toyota. "Jay?" There's a brief pause before a wrench hits the ground and he rolls out.

"What are you doing here?" he asks tiredly. I notice the dark shadows under his eyes, and for the first time I think they might be the product of something other than a hangover.

"Look, I know that you and Sean haven't exactly been on speaking terms lately," I begin, cutting to the chase. He lets out a small laugh and shoots me a curious look.

"I'm surprised that you haven't come here sooner to gloat," he retorts, bringing the back of his hand to his forehead.

"That's not why I'm here. You and I never have gotten along, and we probably never will. But Sean is your best friend. And I know for a fact that he misses you, no matter what bullshit front he puts up," I say plainly. His eyebrows rise at my mild cuss and I roll my eyes, cutting off a snide remark. "Look, I could care less about your happiness, but when my boyfriend is mumbling under his breath after an afternoon of working with you, it begins to concern me. I've tried talking to him. Just… there has to be something you can do, something you can say to remind him of how long you've been friends."

"Don't you think I've tried?" he says, and for the first time in two years I note just how lost he seems without Sean nearby.

"Try harder," I reply, but my voice is slightly softer. "He'll come around sooner or later. I have no idea what the two of you talk about, but I'd have to say that in the area of conversation at least you have Spinner Mason and Toby Isaacs beaten," I joke. For the first time he looks at me hopefully.

"Hogart, get your ass back to work!" I cringe slightly at the rough yell and then turn to him with a tight smile.

"Next week I'll be gone for a couple days. Manny has an audition in Vancouver. Invite him over, smoke a few cigarettes, just… do your guy thing," I suggest, waving my hand around. Jay cocks his eyebrow.

"But Sean doesn't smoke. Not since you told him it was bad for the environment." I narrow my eyes and shake my head from side to side.

"Jay, give me some credit. Besides, I think that the atmosphere can take a few hits for a good cause." As I exit the small garage, I rack my brain trying to remember why reuniting Sean with his former best friend is such a good cause in the first place.

-0-0-0-

"We need to hang out soon. Not for a school project, and not while I'm underneath a car getting my hands greasy; just the two of us doing something fun and relaxed…" I snuggle into the crook of Sean's neck and take a moment to appreciate the way his breath tickles my scalp. This moment is a rare perfection, and if I blink too quickly I'll be asleep at my house or we'll be back to work on linear equations. "You seem so stressed lately."

"That's because I am," I reply wryly. It's been over twenty hours since I got any sleep, and those precious two hours were riddled with dreams I'd rather forget. Caffeine has made me a bundle of nerves. "It's probably just school… I let myself go so much in grade ten that now I'm scrambling to recover before sending out university applications. Plus, I've had a hard time convincing mom that I'm out until twelve with you on school nights because we're studying for composition," I add, giggling tiredly. His hand gently massages my shoulder. "Mm, that feels good." He leans over and kisses my forehead, breaking away to trace a calloused thumb down my cheek.

"You shouldn't worry so much, Em. Any school would be crazy not to accept you." There's so much blind faith in his voice that I have to smile. The smile fades when I look down at my thighs, practically bursting out of jeans that fit me perfectly this summer. I had only gained five pounds back when I purchased these. It's time to work up to a fast again. If I skip breakfast, have soup tomorrow for lunch and only drink the broth, and then purge after dinner, I might be ready. _Not likely,_ I decide with dark amusement, hearing the decisive rumble coming from my abdomen. My expanded stomach feels like an empty drum. "Woah. I guess that means that I should order that double cheese pizza after all?" Sean jokes, not realizing how much the comment hurts. Before I can stop it a tear slips down my cheek and stains his shirt. He immediately shifts and takes me into his arms, murmuring apologies into my ear. "I can't believe I said that. I really didn't mean--"

"—I know," I assure him, laughing weakly. "I guess the lack of sleep is just wreaking havoc with my hormones."

"Still, I should have known that that would upset you," he argues in a whisper-voice. He strokes my hair gently. When he turns to face me, his blue eyes troubled and conflicted, I automatically prepare my excuses. "Em, if it isn't just school stress, you would tell me, right? You wouldn't try to hide it?"

It's over the minute he realizes I can't look him in the eye and say yes.

"Sean," I start, opening and closing my mouth a few times before I realize nothing is coming out. I'm not scared of the anger I know is coming, but the fact that it will be stemming from disappointment is almost more than I can take. He's already seen just how far from perfect I am. Why, God, _why_ does he have to see this, this part of me that I don't even trust my mother with? "It's not like you're thinking," I finally say.

"Isn't it?" he replies, his voice rough and edged with unshed tears. "Ever since I've come back, all I've done is make things harder for you. First I cause a bunch of problems with your boyfriend and with Manny, then I force you to dig up your history with Jay, and now – now this." I'm not sure whether to feel guilty, touched, or angry. All I can think of is getting out of here, of finding the nearest bathroom, of… I clutch his hand in mine so hard that I imagine I hear his bones crack.

"Please, don't leave me. I know I'm not what you wanted, but I can't… if I'm alone now, I'll do… _it_… again," I plead. Do I phrase that last part so delicately because he already knows or because I don't want him to find out? "It's just so _hard_."

"How can I help?" Sean asks, as unsure of himself as I am of myself.

"Just don't make me be alone," I choke out, fighting the beginnings of an eerily familiar sensation. As my lungs refuse to take in any air and my mouth dries up and my pulse starts skyrocketing and tears leak out of my eyes, he is there with me. It's his voice shushing me awkwardly, not bothering to lie and tell me things will be okay. It's his hand on my back, easing out the stress stored there. It's his lips against my temple, informing me that it's okay to be weaker than weak.

"Emma, when was the last time you ate something?" he finally asks. Because I don't have the strength to sugarcoat it and because it really isn't that bad, I answer truthfully.

"I had some eggs and a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast." He gets up and moves out to the kitchen, and I bite back a groan as I hear silverware clinking against the discount plates we bought a few days ago. When he comes back with warmed up mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese I feel tears stinging the backs of my eyes. "Please," I whisper, my voice cracking as he sits down beside me. He gently rests the fork in my right hand and closes my fingers around it, holding it there surely.

"Eat," he says softly, and when I look at him he isn't disgusted or argumentative or even afraid that I'll say no. I bite back a protest and clumsily scoop up a bite of mashed potatoes, bringing it to my mouth and chewing slowly. It seems like an eternity before I swallow around the huge lump in my throat. His eyes meet mine so unflinchingly, urging me without pushing me. I spear a few pieces of pasta. Every single bite is a battle, but his gaze doesn't leave my face once and I force myself to ignore my intuition and chew, chew, swallow. When I'm finally done I push the plate away and rest my head on his lap, resisting the urge to groan over my swollen stomach. If it was anyone else I might yell or move away, but it isn't someone else; it's Sean, who has only ever asked me to do what he knows is good for me.

It's another two hours before my cell phone rings, and my caller ID flashes MOM; she's probably calling to tell me to get home. I think of a million reasons why I should answer her and then let Sean drive me home instead of letting it go to voicemail. _You'll get yourself grounded. Spike's never going to let you see him again. Manny's going to start asking you whether or not you're having sex. If you have the nightmare tonight he'll know for sure that something's wrong._ My body disregards this logic. I lean back wearily and let his arms envelope me, sheltering me from the sharp air of the apartment and the blast of the furnace. My eyelids flutter shut.

-0-0-0-

"Em, wake up." I blink rapidly until I adjust to the blinding light coming through the window. Sean's face is inches away from mine, and his hand is curled around my shoulder shaking gently. "I have to get to work pretty soon. Do you want me to drive you home?" It would be so simple to beg him to call in sick and to stay in this corner untouched by reality, but he has to work and I'm supposed to watch Jack while Spike works an eight hour shift at the salon.

"Okay," I whisper, sitting up carefully. The room swings for a moment as I fight off exhaustion. His hand slips down to my waist and he steadies me while I get up, guiding me to the door as if I can't walk on my own two feet. The drive is mostly silent, but when we're two blocks from my house he pulls over and kisses me gently.

"I just have a feeling I may not be getting the chance to do much of that for awhile," he admits, smiling guiltily. I don't bring my hand down from his face when he draws back and puts the car in gear again.

"I'll call you, okay?" I tell him, trying to assure myself. He nods as I shut the car door and make my way up the walk. Spike is already at the door.

"Get inside _now_," she spits out, taking hold of my arm and jerking me inside. Even though she's inches shorter and pounds lighter, my body stumbles after her like a rag doll's. Once the door is securely shut she turns to me, her face already several shades darker than moments ago. "What do you have to say for yourself? I called fifteen times, Emma. _Fifteen times_. And just when I'm getting ready to breathe because someone answers the phone, _Sean_, your boyfriend of less than a month, tells me that you've fallen asleep and he doesn't want me to worry. So of course, this makes me wonder why he hasn't picked up before and why you aren't home ten minutes after he hangs up. Would you care to enlighten me?!" I've never seen her this angry before, and the anger heating my own face can't mask my fear.

"I had a really rough day. I ended up falling apart on him, and then I guess I fell asleep, and he probably didn't want to wake me up," I say, jutting my jaw out staring her down. A pair of eyes identical to mine flashes fire.

"That's interesting, Emma, because you didn't seem that distressed when you got home from school yesterday. And Manny didn't exactly seem surprised when you missed curfew," Snake states. I make a mental note to wring my surrogate sister's neck.

"So how long am I grounded for?" I question, not bothering to try and explain myself further.

"A month. I don't want to see Sean around here, I don't want to hear the two of you on the phone together, and I don't want Snake seeing the two of you together at school. Is that clear?"

"Perfectly," I snap, moving toward the basement.

"Where are you going?" she barks, her voice taught.

"I'm going to take a much needed shower. Then I'm coming back upstairs to make breakfast, watch Jack, and dust and vacuum. The same thing I do every Saturday," I say. Her face softens slightly and I take it as my cue to go on. "Mom, I'm sorry that I didn't come home last night, and I'm sorry that my boyfriend had to be the one to call you. But I'm not fourteen anymore, and you know that I'm responsible. And Sean isn't just some guy. You know that."

"Do I?" she asks me quietly, searching my face. I bite my lip and look at the floor.

"I love him."


	10. Another on the Rise

"I love him." Telling someone, even if it isn't him, takes a huge weight from my shoulders. Spike's face reflects something akin to shock.

"Emma… you've been through so much the last three years. And Sean is someone familiar and safe that you used to know well. Are you sure that you're not just hanging onto his memory for some sense of security?" My lips purse and I feel heat rising to my face.

"You're right, mom, I do know Sean well. He's been in my life since I was twelve years old. I think I know him well enough to decide whether or not I love him." To my dismay, tears trickle down my cheeks. "Besides, it's not as if I've told him yet." Spike moves toward me, her hand outstretched. I hate the pitying glint in her eyes, the way she doesn't quite believe that I know my own heart well enough to decide when I'm in love with someone.

"Oh, honey--" I back away, shaking my head and crossing my arms over my chest in a defensive gesture.

"Don't. Just _don't_. I'm perfectly fine. You need to get to work," I say brusquely, hoping to put a neat end to the failed mother/daughter heart-to-heart. "Jack's going to be up soon, and if you're here during the morning it's going to be hell for me once you leave for work." There's a moment of tense silence, and then Spike nods stiffly and moves to the door. Her hand rests on the doorknob for a moment, and when she turns to me her eyes are full of an emotion I'm not familiar with.

"This is just hard for me… watching you grow up," she finally says. It's a struggle not to point out that I grew up years ago when Jack was handed off to me and my step father was diagnosed with a possibly terminal illness.

"Have a good day," I tell her, and after another moment's hesitation she's out the front door and the sound of our ancient Honda is receding down the street.

"How nice of you to grace us with your presence," Manny yawns, tripping up the steps. Her entrance is so conveniently timed that I wonder if she's been listening discreetly on the other side of the door. "You had me worried there for awhile. I suggested that maybe you and Sean took off for Vegas, but I guess my comedic skills need some work. I swear, Snake's eyes doubled in size. And he already has kinda buggy eyes, you know, so…" I roll my eyes in exasperation and indulge in a yawn of my own.

"Look, I don't really feel up to making breakfast this morning. Do you think cold cereal and toast will suffice?" I ask.

"Sure, that'll be fine. Anyway, sister, I think that you and I should give Jack a lesson on fashion and head out to the mall today. I have absolutely nothing to wear for my audition." A smile bursts across my face before I can stop it. Manny may be the only person in the world who can get me to smile when I'm trying my hardest to brood over something important.

"Manny, you do realize that your wardrobe rivals that of Paige Michalchuck's, don't you? I can't believe that there's nothing you could wear to your audition. Besides, you'd knock her off her feet in a paper bag." Manny points her finger at me playfully, furrowing her brow in faux consternation.

"You sound like Craig now. But seriously, Em, I'm already washing a good deal of my money down the drain over an impossible dream, so will you _please_ let me go out with a bang?" I shake my head in defeat.

"Okay. BUT – you have to promise me that we'll get back in time for me to work on my English paper. Sean and I only got a chance to do the calculus homework last night." Manny rifles through the cabinet, Corel dinnerware clanking noisily as she searches for a cereal bowl and a plate before retrieving the Cocoa Puffs.

"How was that, anyway? I mean, spending the night with him."

"It was perfect," I reply, surprised by how assured and confident my voice is. "It felt right to be in his arms, you know? No pressures, no expectations…" Her lips curl upwards in a forced smile, and I can tell that she's dying to know what exactly falls into the parameters of spending the night with my boyfriend. Surprisingly, I'm not dying to tell her every last detail. Last night feels like something that I need to keep secret and close to my heart.

"Well, that's really great, Em. Now, I'm not sure how we're going to work out the sleeping arrangements at Craig's place, but…" I lift my eyes to the ceiling and cringe.

"Okay, I will take up residence on whatever living room furniture he has, just… try not to be too noisy, okay? I don't think my fragile psyche can take much more damage," I joke.

"See, this is why you're my best friend," she comments, bounding over to give me an exuberant kiss on the cheek. On a whim I pull my arms around her, resting my cheek on her shoulder as I squeeze her waist tightly. When I pull back she gives me a strange look. "You okay, Em?" I struggle for a long moment. Sometimes I forget just how much I depend on her and that she's been my anchor since I was five years old; but now seems like the wrong time to tell her so in a long, drawn-out speech.

"I guess spending so much time with Jack is turning me into a cuddlebug," I rationalize. A mischievous glint shines in Manny's eyes.

"Speaking of our little brother, shouldn't he be up by now?" I'm about to raise my eyebrows at the possessiveness of "our" when I realize that it is, in fact, a perfect way to talk about her relation to me and Jack.

"Well, considering you refuse to tell anyone else his 'special tickle spot,' you'll have to be the one to do the honors," I reply dryly, laughing as she nearly runs out of the room. "I take it I should turn on the Saturday morning cartoons?" I call; my voice raising as she hits the second story of the house.

"Find the Power Puff Girls! He needs to see some examples of strong females in the media!" I silently count under my breath, smiling at the sound of Jack's surprised squeal. The truth is I'll always be more than willing to share Jack with Manny as long as my little brother returns the favor.

-0-0-0-

"Emma, does this shade of green make my skin look like tree bark?" Manny asks, her face completely serious. With an equally straight face, I pinch my index finger and thumb and nod solemnly.

"Just a little bit." She shrugs her shoulders and rifles through the rack, trying to find the mini dress in a different print.

"Why does everything bohemian have to be so muted? I mean, I understand that they're going for the whole 'understated' look, but is it really necessary to make everything some shade of off white or green or brown? It's just so boring," she complains.

"Why don't you try some dress shorts and a blouse? Professional but fashionable, right?" I suggest, turning to pay attention to the insistent pulling on my pants.

"Emma, c'n we go t' the toy store now?" Jack pleads. I sigh and shake my head, pointing at Manny accusingly.

"Ask _her_. Really, Manny, it shouldn't take that long to find something for you to buy." She suddenly freezes in front of the shelf she's been perusing and stares back at me excitedly.

"Em, look at this! This mini would look absolutely perfect with your textured green top; you know, the one you wore to school last Monday with those awful khakis of yours?" I let out an audible sigh. It's well known that when Manny's nerves are frayed and she's headed for her shopping crisis mode she begins matching clothes up to everyone in a six mile radius – except herself, of course.

"Manny, we're here for you. I don't need anything new, and with all of my funds being drained it's not exactly like I have the money. I already stretched myself beyond my means for that purple dress." My best friend's eyes twinkle merrily.

"But the look on Sean's face when he saw you in it was worth it, wasn't it?" She's got me there, but I'm not going to admit that to her.

"Let's just focus for a minute. Okay, um…" I trail off, silently cursing my 'reserved' (non-existent) fashion sense. "… what kind of image are you trying to put forward?" Manny taps her fingers against the metal shelf in consideration.

"Well, the part is for a girl in her mid to late teens, fairly insecure, really reserved… oh my god, Emma! I just have to find something that you would wear!" After getting over the momentary sting of the correlation I huff indignantly.

"I am _not_ that reserved," I argue.

"It took you forever to admit to yourself that you had feelings for Sean all three times. Guys have to bend over backwards to get you, which contrary to common belief isn't your way of playing games; it's just that all of your feminist crap doesn't automatically vanish your inbred shyness," she ticks off, obviously enjoying being on the winning end of an argument with me.

"Reserved? Manny, I'm the girl who marched around the front of Degrassi with posters protesting using GM food in the caf," I remind her, my brow wrinkling. Really, where does she get this stuff?

"Exactly. You always have to have some cause to hide behind, be it the extinction of fresh water baby seals or banishing Jay Hogart to the ninth circle of hell." Before I have time to question seals residing in fresh water a brand new wave of worry creases my brow.

"I'm actually not too keen on torturing Jay anymore than necessary. I've never seen him and Sean in a fight this long; never seen them in a fight period. Just because I'd rather not see Jay around doesn't mean that I'd accept the blessing at the expense of Sean's happiness." Manny rolls her eyes and moves to a rack of clothes decidedly more frumpy than anything _I_ would ever even consider wearing.

"Sean and Jay are two sides of the same coin. Mother Nature is just compensating for lost time; you and I have had two major fallings-out in the last three years alone. It's what happens when friends are too close; they either become the same person or they fight like siblings. Jay and Sean are just going through separation anxiety now that Sean's shed his macho criminal exterior."

"He was never a criminal!" I snap, fingering the mini skirt she thrust at me moments before. It is kind of cute… not that it could draw anyone's attention away from my hideous legs.

"So says the girl who accused him of stealing a laptop," Manny snorts. Before I can retort to that, Jack tugs at my pant leg again.

"Emma, I'm hungry. It's been a long time since breakfast." His voice has gained that familiar whining quality he uses before the onset of a tantrum.

"Jack-Jack, just give me a second, okay? I think I've found something that might work," Manny announces, finding a simple knee-length denim skirt and a basic tank top.

"You said that you needed something special for your audition. You have plenty of outfits like that at home," I say, barely holding back a snarl. Manny flashes me a smile before slipping toward the dressing rooms.

"That was before my lifestyle guru helped me get inside my character's head!"

Thirty minutes and a small screaming match courtesy of Jack later, we're in the middle of the food court. "Okay, what do you want for lunch?" Manny asks, eyes sweeping over the same ten places repeatedly.

"I want McDonald's," Jack asserts. My jaw drops and I can feel my nostrils flair.

"_What_ did you say?" Manny doesn't bother trying to hide her snicker.

"I said I want McDonald's," he repeats, staring up at me defiantly. "Big Burt says meat's good for your health, and we _never_ have any at home."

"Do you know where meat comes from, Jack? I'll tell you where it comes from: animals that have been brutally killed and butchered in slaughter houses then parceled off for our consumption. McDonald's in particular puts all kinds of unhealthy greases and fats on that meat while they're frying it, and half the time the burgers aren't even all the way done, so you run the risk of contracting E Coli!"

"Relax, Emma," Manny soothes, grinning to beat the band. "It's about time someone challenged you. Jack's beliefs are just a little different than yours." I don't like the condescending lilt in her voice.

"I jus' like the 'appy meals," Jack says, hands planted firmly on his hips. I notice for the first time that we're drawing curious glances from more than one person. Manny gets a wistful look on her face.

"It's been a loooong time since I've had a real burger… oh relax, Emma! I'm sure you'll make me feel guilty enough later, but I say that it's about time to broaden Jack's horizons. How else is he going to survive when his friends start shoving _real_ food down his throat?"

"_Real_ friends would not shove _real_ animal carcasses down his throat," I hiss, turning on my heel and walking toward Panera Bread. Some soup might help ease the incessant growling in my stomach without piling on too many calories.

"Come on, Jack," Manny says confidently, taking him by the hand and leading him over to McDonalds. I watch in a muted silence as Manny waits in line with him, leaning down to him to point out something on the menu. She finally hands over cash at the register and Jack receives his (unrecycled) paper bag cheerfully. The sulky and somewhat frightened look she sends me a moment later tells me that I probably need a fire extinguisher to vanish the smoke pouring from my ears.

I hold up a silencing hand when they walk toward me and stalk off, hoping to find a table outside where I can simmer until my holier-than-thou pout has worn slightly off of my face. Moments later Manny is plopping down ungracefully across from me and Jack is dumping his chicken McNuggets into the trash bin. "I guess you were right," she offers. "He said that the chicken made him sick to his stomach." I stare at her moodily for a minute before I look back down at my hands. "Em, you're not eating," she notes, and the resignation in her voice is dull.

"I'm just not hungry," I snap, folding my arms across my chest. "This day has been a disaster from the start. First mom grounds me and I'm stupid enough to reward her with a declaration of my undying love for Sean; then I end up going shopping with you and Jack, the most high-maintenance combination ever; now I have to deal with my younger brother eating meat right under my nose…" Manny shakes her head from side to side, holding up her hand to slow me down.

"Wait, did you just say that you told your mom you loved Sean? More importantly, did you just say that you love Sean?" I squirm under her steadfast gaze and nod. The smile she favors me with is genuine, to my surprise. "Well, I can't say I'm not glad you finally figured it out. But still, verbal diarrhea much? I guess we can at least be thankful it wasn't Snake; now that would have been a whole other can of worms."

"You aren't surprised," I say, stating it more like an accusation. She rolls her eyes indulgently and smiles.

"Emma, you've been in love with him since grade seven. I didn't figure that out until he came back, but I think that had a lot more to do with me wanting to protect you than with me being oblivious. As for you, we all know that you like to live in a constant state of denial." Before I can protest that she pushes a plastic container filled with raw spinach across the table to me. "I noticed that your brooding didn't include food, so I figured I would get you something healthy and then watch you eat it. I didn't even get you dressing." I glance at Jack, who is contentedly eating his ice cream cone.

"That's a shame. I really love their ranch dressing." Her face is graced with a bright smile as she leans in across the table.

"So… how are we going to get around this grounding for our trip to Vancouver?"

-0-0-0-

"I started keeping my journal." The trembling that had started in my legs travels to my hands and arms, and I can feel moisture gathering on my upper lip. Rosa crosses and uncrosses her legs, smiling at me interestedly. I clench the small notebook in my hands as if to hide it.

"That's wonderful, Emma. Do you want to share what some of your thoughts have been, or do you just want to go on with the session?" _Brush her off, move on, and keep on your happy face. Don't let your guard down. Telling her that you've been keeping a diet diary is only going to make her send you to the nearest recovery facility. _

"I – I purged twice in the past week. And I haven't been eating regularly." I look at the couch cushions while I speak and avoid her gaze entirely. "Two nights ago when Sean confronted me, I broke down and I had a panic attack. But it – um, it turned out okay." I swallow thickly, trying to rid the metallic taste in my mouth, but it is persistent. "I've been doing better since then. And I stopped writing down my food intake in the notebook and started doing what you told me – scribbling thoughts, jotting down feelings. It helps." I hardly ever talk during therapy unless I'm cornered into it, but now I feel like I could talk forever. My mind is numb, but inside I can feel a pressure valve slowly easing up.

"What have you been feeling?" her voice is gentle, and I fight back the questions and accusations battling to be voiced and answer her instead.

"I've been – I've been lonely. It feels like no one really understands me, like my parents are still treating me like glass and my teachers and friends still expect me to be perfect. It's different with Manny, of course – but I'm still so afraid of hurting her. I'm afraid of hurting everybody else or rocking the boat so I keep it all bottled up and I stop eating. My boyfriend had to sit there and watch me while I ate a few nights ago. The awful thing," I draw in a shaky breath, "I wasn't mad or defensive; I was scared. I knew that I needed him there, because I might have done something stupid otherwise. And I _hate_ being afraid." Dampness surrounds my eyelids when I blink and I cringe at the thought of my mascara running.

"We're all afraid sometimes, Emma. It's a natural feeling."

"No." I shake my head vehemently, hating that she doesn't understand for a different reason than I usually do. "It's different. When I'm afraid I can't think, I can't feel, I can't do anything. I'm powerless. I'm helpless. I – I – bad things happen," I finish pathetically. I feel very like a three-year-old describing the monsters under their bed.

"You've been through quite a few traumatic experiences. Do you think that maybe you're transferring the emotions you blocked out at those times into your day-to-day life; feeling more angry than normal because of certain things, letting yourself be paralyzed by fear?"

My epiphany is instantaneous. There is a reason that people go to therapy, and it isn't to have their conditions diagnosed or to get a psychiatric referral or to hear themselves talk for hours on end; it is to be told what they already know about themselves. What they need to hear from someone else.

"I think," I say, "that's a huge part of the problem." She leans back in her chair and clicks her pen once, twice.

"So what are we going to do about it?"

-0-0-0-

Rosa calls my mom back when she comes in to drop off the check and tells her about the purging. She says that my parents should watch me carefully for the rest of the week, and if I'm doing well than it should be okay to let me go to Vancouver with Manny. I say a silent prayer of thanks for understanding mental health professionals when Spike relays this news, her hands clenching the steering wheel and her eyes fixed straight ahead.

I don't say anything to her. What is there to be said? I let her down (again), I'm messing up my life (again), and I'm hurting everyone else in the process (_again_). So instead of giving her a chance to voice all of this out loud I lean my head against the window and sigh deeply.

"Were you talking with Sean about this?" I swivel my head towards her face, surprised by the question.

"When?" The corners of her lips turn down.

"Friday night, when you stayed at Sean's all night. She said that you started writing in your journal and doing better around the weekend, and I just – is that what you two were doing?" Humiliation sweeps over me. Spike pulls into the driveway and kills the engine, looking at me searchingly. I slowly nod my head. She buries her face in her hands, and when she puts them down and lifts her eyes to me again I'm surprised to see how red and tired they are. "Emma, why can't you talk to me about this? Why don't you tell me what's going on with you?" The lump in my throat is too huge to speak over for a moment.

"Mom, there are things I don't even want to admit to myself. And you've always wanted me to be so strong and independent, and I couldn't – I couldn't ask you for help. I don't know _how_. With Sean, he just reads it in my face and _makes_ me tell him without even trying." I allow a small chuckle to escape my lips. "It's not just you, mom. I still feel awful talking to Snake and Manny about my eating disorder because I hate to disappoint them." This time the pain in her eyes isn't something I can brush off as lack of sleep.

"But I'm your _mother_," she whispers, and her voice is full of a pain that cuts right through me. She clutches my hand in hers, and I let her. Right now I need it just as much as she does. "I don't want to let you go," she says after awhile. "But it's seeming more and more like I let go of you a long time ago. I just don't want to lose you." Guilt curls in my stomach, but with it a steely determination that is foreign but not altogether uncomfortable.

"I think we both let go. But mom, I don't want to lose you. I still need you, and nothing is going to change that," I hesitate for a moment before deciding to take a risk, "even what I told you about Sean." She sighs and gives me a watery smile before gently running her fingers under her eyes.

"I'm glad that you've found someone like him. I have my reservations, but you know that Archie has always been close to Sean, and he's had a hand in convincing me that the two of you being together isn't the worst thing in the world."

"So… does this mean that I'm off grounding?" I say hopefully. She gives me a knowing smile, eyebrows raised.

"I'm still going to be keeping a tight leash on you, missy. If Snake and I decide you can go to Vancouver, Sean can come over to the house two evenings a week after you get back. The basement door _will_ be left open during those visits."

"That I can live with," I reply. It's certainly a promising start.

-0-0-0-

"So my girlfriend tells me that I'll be seeing you in Vancouver this weekend," Craig says, a smile in his voice. I sigh, half-happy, half-wistful. I've missed him.

"Well, if I can convince my parents that my temporary downward spiral is over and done with than yes." He doesn't question me, which I'm grateful for. Craig and I have an odd understanding that enables use to use tact with each other where we wouldn't with anyone else.

"So after Manny mentioned that you were coming, I figured that I should rent you guys a hotel room," he says, voice excited.

"Are you kidding? Manny's going to kill me for ruining your romantic rendezvous!" I joke. He chuckles and I can hear him shaking his head through the line.

"No, no. My apartment is in the hotel, so you guys will be less than a floor away from me. That way I can keep an eye on you but you can still hang out at my place. And I have to admit, it'll be nice not having to worry about walking in on you taking a shower. Remember that incident at Joey's the summer before grade nine?"

"I resent that!" I say, grinning in spite of myself. "I was still in my bathing suit. Luckily for you – if you'd walked in on something else, I might not have been so forgiving."

"I knew that then and I know it now," he says. The line crackles a bit and his voice is lower when he speaks again. "Listen, Emma, I haven't told Manny yet, but months ago Ellie got a plane ticket to visit me this weekend. So since it's too late to cancel but I don't want Manny feeling bad, could you cover for me this weekend, make sure they don't run into each other?"

"No." I'm pleased by the firmness I my voice. "Craig, you have got to stop walking on eggshells around Manny where Ellie is concerned. If she's really just a friend than you have nothing to worry about." My heart sinks when he doesn't respond. "You and Ellie… you _are_ just friends, right?"

"Yeah, of course!" His voice is a little too high, but more from nerves than dishonesty. "It's just… a complicated friendship. And Manny doesn't understand that. They're just two relationships that I prefer to keep separate from each other, you know? Things have a tendency to get awkward when they're in the same room."

"Awkward for who?" I grumble, glad when he doesn't hear me. "Look, Craig, you just need to be honest with her. I'll try to help you avoid awkward situations, but if you don't tell Manny that Ellie's going to be there this weekend than I will." Before he has a chance to talk me out of my stance I cover the mouthpiece and call Manny back downstairs. I rifle through my backpack, looking for the notes I took in English; we have a test tomorrow.

As Manny's voice rises steadily over the next few minutes I find my iPOD and turn up the volume. When Manny's off the phone and I've given her a chance to hash out their latest argument I'll call Sean. The thought of his sympathy while I relay Craig's latest drama makes me smile almost imperceptibly. Sean seems to be having that effect on me lately, and in truth it's a welcome change.


End file.
